


His New Driver

by SpaceshipBird



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime, Driving, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some angst, but its not explicitly written, i do mean slow burn, past trauma, reader does drugs, ummm I don’t really know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceshipBird/pseuds/SpaceshipBird
Summary: You are a retired getaway driver from upstate who moved to Sandy Shores to keep a low profile after your last job went wrong. You manage to go straight for a little over half a decade before inevitably meeting Trevor, and of course he takes great interest in you. You try your best to avoid his advances, but Trevor just has such a strong influence...
Relationships: Trevor Philips/Reader, Trevor Philips/You
Comments: 70
Kudos: 112





	1. Jerry Was A Race Car Driver

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first work I’ve probably ever uploaded anywhere. I try to finish my stories before I post them but I didn’t want to wait with this one. I’ve got a few chapters backlogged, so I hope I can manage a good schedule and not keep any good folks waiting. I’ve been extremely manic and I’ve just been writing this everyday for about a week now, please enjoy.  
> Also, yes, Trevor does show up in this chapter. Just keep reading, I’m a sucker and I like to do “world building” if it can even be called that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO IMPORTANT: I promise this is an x reader! Red is just your nickname for the time being since you don’t share your name easily in this story. But yes, I promise it’s an x reader.

You raced down a narrow mountain road in a stolen red sedan, bumper hanging off the back making sparks as it dragged on the road. Police sirens were heavy on your tail, sweat beaded aggressively on your forehead as you focused like never before to lose them without flying off the side of the cliff.

  
"They're gaining, th-they're gaining!!" One of your accomplices cried out.

  
"Shut the fuck up!!" You yelled, gripping the wheel tighter. You used both your feet on the gas and brakes, drifting around a tight corner, sending the other three people in the car with you into a panic. The sirens did not let up.

  
Your skills as a getaway driver had been tested before, but this was an entirely different ballpark, and the stressed statements and screams coming from your partners didn't help. The take from this job would have been humongous.. If only you hadn’t made a terrible decision to get blasted on drugs just beforehand.

  
"You all need to shut the FUCK up before I-"

  
"CLIFF! THE CLIFF!" One shrieked, pointing at an upcoming guard rail. You went eerily silent as you turned too hard, causing the car to spin out and fly off the side of the mountain backwards. Some of your partners screamed, some were silent, but the moment was surreal. It was like being stuck in time before the first impact came from the car rolling down the side.

  
You jumped awake, sweat rolling down your face and neck. Fuck, you hated that nightmare.

  
You sat up on your messy bed, all of your blankets and half your bedsheets hanging off the side. Another sweltering day in Sandy Shores. Summer in Blaine County was akin to living in Hell, and there wasn't much you could do to avoid the dry heat. You had a small swamp cooler in the corner of the room, but filling the thing up with water constantly got annoying.

  
You lazily shuffled through your trailer to use the bathroom. You wondered what the temperature was going to be that day. 105? 115? Whatever it was, it was too fucking hot to be pulling off a robbery.

  
You stood from the toilet and stared at your tired face in the mirror. You couldn't believe you'd agreed to be a driver again after so many years. You'd given up that life a long time ago, but your dwindling savings was a wake up call. You needed fast money so you agreed to help some local punks rob a market. It was a spur of the moment decision, but you didn't think it was so bad. There was no way they'd catch major heat robbing some little dump in the middle of nowhere. If you were being completely honest, you thought they were going a little overboard with recruiting you. You were almost certain any buffoon with or without a license could get away from the local police. But you were getting paid, so you kept your mouth shut.  
You checked your watch. Only a few hours to kill before you met with everyone. Walking out of the bathroom, you grabbed a cold bottle of beer from your fridge and walked out onto the cramped porch of your rusty and decrepit trailer. You took a seat on the decaying lawn chair and lit a cigarette, deciding to sit and watch the world go by like a true redneck.

  
While peacefully sitting there, your neighbour's dog began barking. Your brow tightened as you took a drag and tapped the ash into your beer. That fucking dog. It was always barking at seemingly every hour of the day. You were getting close to going over there and yelling at your neighbours, but you always decided against it. Part of your new life included trying to be calm and not start shit. You were never particularly aggressive, but there were times when you could explode, especially with how into drugs you used to be. No, now you were just a hillbilly Sandy Shores resident, someone with no face who blended in with the rest of the flannel, camo-vest-wearing, pick-up truck crowd.

  
Time escaped you listening to that dog's droning barking. The hours had passed and it was time for you to go meet with the boys.

  
Letting out a sigh and a grunt, you kicked yourself up from your reclined position and got into your small beat up car which was parked in the dirt nearby your home. You took off towards the meeting place, which was the abandoned motel semi-nearby.

  
You sped down the trashy sun-bleached roads, always having an affinity for driving fast. Before you knew it, you were in the parking lot of the cruddy place, crawling with litter, rats, and cats. Of course, the boys were not there, resulting in you waiting against the hood of your car, smoking another cigarette down to the filter. Shit, you should really quit smoking those things.

  
Eventually, two lanky figures came jogging from around the corner. You stood up straight, flicking your third cigarette across the cracked parking lot.  
The two walked up to you awkwardly and you nodded, greeting them. "Les. Mud. You two are fucking late as usual."

  
"Sorry Red, Les' cat got out and we had to look for her. Got eaten by a coyote." Mud said. Les promptly slapped him across the back of his head, nearly knocking Mud's cowboy hat off his head.

  
"And she wouldn't have gotten out if you shut the goddamn door!" Les frowned.

  
Les and Mud were fairly unknown faces, just two dumb kids you'd met by chance. Mud, as he liked to go by since no one knew his real name, was someone who wouldn't be caught dead without his cowboy hat, which was falling apart at the seams but he did not care. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, spoke with a rather high pitched country accent, and enjoyed chewing an obnoxious amount of tobacco. Les was the smarter of the two, but not by any means smart in general. He shaved the sides of his head and sported thin ratty braids on the very top of his crown. His teeth were crooked, he looked like a gangly mess, all in all typical trailer trash. The two of them enjoyed hanging around each other for whatever reason and often committed misdemeanors together. They were beginning to get into bigger game, so they enlisted you for help.

  
"Sorry for your loss. You two ready or what? You got everything you need?" You asked. Mud held up a heavy-looking duffel bag.

  
"Got 'em at Ammu-Nation. I'd say we're ready. The place we're goin' to should be just east of here.. Uhh.. Or were it west.." He pondered in silence and Les huffed, rolling his eyes.

  
"I told you, the driver has all that handled. Just get in the car, Mud." Les walked over and got in the back of your car and Mud followed suit, spitting out a big glob of dip before sitting in the back, wiping the drool off his chin with his sleeve. You scoffed slightly and got into the car, driving off. What a pair of buffoons. Oh well, they promised you a decent cut and any spare cash was greatly appreciated. Just about everything in your house was on the verge of collapse and money for repairs would be a godsend.

  
The three of you rode through the boring desert scenery, sun glaring down.

  
"Does this car got air conditioner?" Mud asked.

  
"No. It's broke," You sighed.

  
"So you remember the plan and everything, right?" Les added, looking rather eager. You stared at him in the rearview mirror before shrugging.

  
"More or less. Don't worry guys, this really isn't that bad. If you two can actually pull off the plan you made and get back to me, I can get us out of there no problem." You waved your hand, reassuring the boys. They were silent from then on, watching the Alamo Sea pass by as you drove on to Grapeseed.

  
The landscape slightly got more green as Mount Chiliad completely took over the horizon in front of you. You drove the boys to the local supermarket, dropping them off around the corner.

  
"Alright. Get out, do your thing, I'll be parked nearby. And hurry up, it's fucking hot outside."

  
Les and Mud fumbled with their masks outside. Nothing complicated, just two masks made from pantyhose.

  
"Damn it Mud, take off your hat! You're gonna get us recognized!" Les muttered harshly.

  
"Nuh-uh! My grandpappy gave this to me- Hey!" Mud was interrupted as Les snatched the hat off his head and threw it into your backseat, dragging Mud away even though he protested. You couldn't help but laugh at the two. You had very little hope this would all work out, but what could you say. You needed to take the risk. Just one score should give you at least a little more time to be able to keep looking for an actual job.

  
You counted the minutes on your watch before pulling the car across the street and putting it in park. Things appeared to be idle outside the shabby supermarket, but inside the boys should’ve been busy robbing it and pointing guns at the poor employees.

  
You sighed, getting distracted by the scenery. Grapeseed was such a small shitty place, the majority of it was just fields. It's why you weren't too worried about this job, casual enough to even use your own vehicle, but you put the plates in your trunk just to be sure.

  
Yelling erupted from across the street and your head darted over. Les and Mud were outside the front, but someone else was there with them, a taller and more bulky man with patchy hair who looked to be harassing them. You rolled your eyes. Oh great. You reached over and retrieved the pistol from your glove compartment, stuffing it in the hem of your pants just to be safe.

  
"Point that fuckin' thing at me again nitwit! You think you can just come in and start shooting up the place while I'm shopping?!" The guy yelled at Mud, who then pointed his AR at him. The man did not even flinch. He stood there and crossed his arms, seemingly waiting. "What? What?! That fuckin' thing is too big for you!" He yanked the gun from Mud's hands easily and bashed his face in with the butt of the gun, sending Mud straight to the concrete. The man threw the gun down next him and turned around to Les, who was shakily pointing his pistol at the man's face.

  
"Stop right there! I won't have you harassing us!" Les yelled. The guy spread out his arms, shrugging.

  
"What are you waiting for? Do it!!" He yelled, eyes wide and crazed.

  
"What the fuck is this guy smoking.." You muttered to yourself, watching everything unfold.

  
Les kept pointing the gun, but could not take the shot. "Oh, gimme that fuckin' thing!" The man put his entire hand over Les' face and pushed the kid onto the floor, yanking the gun from him and harshly throwing it onto the supermarket roof in one big comedic motion. "Fuckers! You got anyone else with you? Huh?!" He towered over the kids, who were writhing around on the floor. They said nothing at first, so the man made a sudden movement, scaring the shit out of Mud. He quickly pointed at your car and you cradled your face. Of course there was no way this was going to go right. Damn it, Mud.

  
You watched the angry man take big strides over to your car, his fists clenched and face menacing. You promptly opened the car door and stepped out, facing him.

  
"Do we got a problem?!" You called out to him, making him slow down. His facial expression quickly changed and he neared the car, much more gentle, but still laced with rabid energy.

  
"Well hello there," His tone got suggestive and he raised his bushy brows. You stayed silent and squinted through the harsh sunlight. "What's a fine lady like you doing with those two dumbasses?" He asked quickly.

  
"They're my nephews," you lied, "we came to pick some stuff up from the supermarket. Don't much appreciate you bullying them like that," You replied. Of course, you were nervous because this man seemed completely unhinged. You were sure he wouldn't be scared of you pointing your gun at him seeing how he handled Les and Mud earlier, and you never quite developed the stomach to actually shoot to kill. This was something you'd have to bullshit your way through.

  
"Woah! Well aren't you direct. I like it. And uh, do you usually pick things up from supermarkets in this manner?" He tilted his head, you noted how expressive he was with his speech, often swaying his hands and bobbing his head every which way. Yep, definitely smoking something.

  
"Maybe. Maybe not." You stared him down, also noting all his weird and edgy tattoos. He stared back, shadow falling over his wide and predatory eyes.

  
"Would you say you're any good at it?" He questioned in a lower tone.

  
"It's not for me to say, all I know is that I haven't been caught yet." You tried to keep your composure and stay on the playing field with this guy, but it wasn't easy. His energy was quickly throwing you off, like an angry bull bucking off its rider. It was getting tougher to ignore your fight or flight instincts as he inched ever so closer.

  
"Well, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Trevor Philips of Trevor Philips Enterprises. You may have heard my name around these parts, my business is a bit of a big deal.. Just so happens I have a position open, so tell me, would you be interested in being my sexy secretary?" He gestured energetically at the word, you scowled at his directness. So this was the Trevor you'd heard being flung around in numerous gruesome rumors. You couldn't say you were surprised.

  
"No thanks, I think I'm fine doing my own gig." Your hand reached for the door handle and Trevor's laugh stopped you.

  
"An independent woman! God I love it. Why haven't I seen you around? I think we'd really get along," Trevor said too excitedly.

  
"Because I've been keeping a low profile for exactly this reason." Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Les and Mud get up and begin running away like bats out of hell. You sighed deeply. There went any chance of getting your money.

  
"Low profile?! That just won't do! Someone like you deserves to be seen. Where do you live??" Trevor asked eagerly, raising his brows. Jeez, this guy was obnoxious. You were about to just get in the car and blast off, but a more fun idea popped into your head.

  
"Sure, I'll show you where I live on one condition." You leaned against the car with a coy smile.

  
Trevor's eyes widened tenfold. "What's that??" He asked quickly.

  
"You just have to follow me."

  
"Wha? That's it? You don't need me to put on a dress or heels or anything? You're on woman." Trevor smiled wickedly. He ran back across the street and got into his large red truck.

  
You got back into the car and pulled into the middle of the street, waiting on him. His car pulled behind yours and you smirked. You were going to leave this fool in the dust. You gave a middle finger out your window and sped off, putting the pedal to the metal.

  
Trevor smirked as he saw you blast off. So it was a chase you wanted? God, he could really get into that.

  
He took off behind you and quickly caught up with you, the front end of his truck nearly touching your bumper. You spied his crazed look in your side mirrors. He didn't seem like he was going to give up any time soon. You smiled and put both hands on the wheel. That was okay, you liked a challenge.

  
Your small car flew down the road, weaving through the sparse traffic. Trevor was able to keep up, but the distance was larger than before. Nonetheless, you were somewhat surprised. Most people didn't enjoy the idea of flying down the wrong side of the road. Clearly, he had some experience.

  
Your eyes scanned the environment. You put both feet on the pedals and made an exceptionally sharp and clean turn into the fields to your right. It caught Trevor by surprise and he turned so hard he nearly spun out, but he eventually regained control. His truck bumped up and down on the uneven surface as he tried to regain speed to catch up with you again. You were far ahead now, dust from the dirt road making it harder to keep sights on you. You executed another sharp turn and followed it with another, making a zig-zag pattern. Hopefully that would confuse him.

  
Trevor swerved on and off the road, narrowly following the dust still scattering in your wake. In his distraction, he pummeled through some stacked hay-bales, sending them flying everywhere. "FUCK!!" He yelled, swerving some more to regain himself. He turned again, just barely catching a glimpse of the tail-end of your car going around another turn and onto the street. "You're not losing me that easy missy.." He mumbled to himself, speeding towards you.

  
On the road, you just barely missed an oncoming car, earning you some angry honks. In the near distance, you spotted a very small overpass with a little gutter running underneath it. You steered your car into the small canal and rapidly pressed the brakes, spinning your car in a complete 180 so that you could stop the car facing the opposite direction. You skidded to a clean halt and reclined on your seat, smiling to yourself. Yep, you still had it. On the road you saw a glimpse of Trevor's red truck whizzing by and getting on the overpass above you, presumably riding off into the distance. You smirked and laughed to yourself. Served him right.

  
You put your feet up on the dash and turned off your car, enjoying the shade of the overpass. You'd let him drive away for 15 more minutes before calling it quits and make your way back home. While fishing out a cigarette, your phone began vibrating in your cup-holder. You absentmindedly picked it up and put it to your ear. "Yeah?" You asked, lighting the cigarette.

  
"Uhh we saw you drive off. Are you gonna come back? We kinda need a ride.." It was Mud. You sighed deeply.

  
"Yeah I'll be back in a few. Stay put." You hung up and continued to lounge. Those two idiots could stand 15 more minutes in the scorching sun while you relaxed for a bit.

  
Trevor raced down the road, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. "Where the fuck could she have gone?! Arrrghhh!!!" He yelled, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. There was no way you could have disappeared like you did, you couldn't have possibly driven fast enough. "That little minx.. Fuck!" He was simultaneously pissed off but very impressed at the same time. Clearly he underestimated you. How the fuck was he supposed to know you were such a good driver?! No matter, he already made a vow right then and there he'd find you again, and maybe offer you a real position. God knew he could always use some good getaway drivers, especially ones he could stare at so fervently like you. In his pocket, his phone rang and he snatched it out quickly, slamming it to his ear. "What?!" He just about snarled.

  
"U-Uh hey Trevor! You coming back soon? There's some business we could really use your help with back here.." Ron replied sheepishly on the other line.

  
"Ahh fuck Ron, can't it wait?! I'm busy!"

  
"Sorry boss, it's really urgent!"

  
"Fuck! Fine! I'll be back in a few. FUCK!!" He hung up and threw the phone at the seat, spinning his truck around and making his way back to Sandy Shores.


	2. Bizness Meeting

After taking your smoke break, you picked up Mud and Les from their position. Somehow, the two managed to run a fair bit up Mount Chiliad, so it took you some time to find them. By the time you were headed back to Sandy Shores, the sun was setting.

"Honestly you two, how the FUCK did you run so far away? I wasn't even gone for that long!" You questioned from the front seat, staring at them angrily in the rearview. 

"We was scared! Trevor is a scary bastard," Mud replied, adorning his cowboy hat as normal again.

"Yeah well after I drop you two morons off, lose my number."

"What? No! Come on Red, this was unexpected. Everything would have worked if it wasn't for Trevor! Everyone knows you can't do much if he gets in your way," Les pleaded. 

"Trevor this Trevor that, I don't care! He's just some guy. All I ever hear are rumors, you two aren't afraid of some rumors are you? Cause let me tell you, I've heard plenty of rumors in my day and most of the people associated with them barely lived up to them!" You scolded.

"Miss Red, them rumors aren't just rumors for gossip. Trevor's really crazy. You saw him, he nearly killed us!" Mud explained in a worried tone.

"He hardly killed you, he just beat your asses, which by the way if I had half the mind, I would have done so too! I mean what the hell was that, you just gave up my position as soon as he asks you a little threateningly? If he's so crazy, he could have killed me!" You frowned.

"We're sorry! Mud doesn't think right in those situations, it won't happen again, promise. Please Red, you're the best driver in Blaine County, hell, in all San Andreas!" Les clasped his hands together in a begging fashion.

"Enough. Lose my number. Find yourselves another driver." You ended the conversation abruptly, leaving Les and Mud in an uncomfortable silence for the entire drive back.

By nightfall, you dropped the boys back off at the abandoned motel and sped off without any further words exchanged. That was a weight off your shoulders. If that's how those two were going to act, it wouldn't have been long before they got you killed anyway.

But another problem arose. You had no work coming your way, and not even a little cut from this failed gig. And damn it, Les was right. You _were_ a great driver, one of the best. The problem was getting your name out there and making connections, which you didn't exactly care to do anymore. This was just supposed to be for some cash flow so you could keep living in your shitty trailer while looking for real work. You couldn't just blast off back into that life, not after..

Your previous nightmare flashed in your head and you shuddered.

You drove through the empty grey streets, cool desert wind blowing on you from the window. In the distance, you heard your neighbour's dog barking again and it was enough to make your blood boil after listening for a few moments. On top of everything, now you had to deal with that dog not letting you sleep?

You mindlessly sped up, engine revving and nearly backfiring from the sudden push. You swerved around the corner to your neighbours house, brows drawn together.

Trevor leaned against his crooked porch railing, drinking a beer. He couldn't get you out of his head. So fiesty and direct, one of the few people in Blaine County still ballsy enough to stand on level ground with him and not falter. God it turned him on. And it excited him further when you completely blew away his expectations and lost him like that. Damn it, he needed to find you again. Maybe he could call Lester or something-

The shrill noise of tires screeching and a singular loud dog yelp caught his attention. Trevor leaned out and couldn't believe his eyes. It was your car, screeching away from the yard of a trailer and blasting off down the street in front of him. You skidded around the corner and Trevor bolted from his front yard and stood at the corner, watching your car drive off. An unconscious smile formed on his face when he saw you turn down a street not so far away.

"Well well well, looks like we're neighbours. Finding you again won't be so hard after all." Trevor cockily spoke to himself.

Curiously, he walked to the house where you had just driven off from and raised his brows. The owner's dog was flattened in the yard. "Jesus Christ." He mumbled quietly. He shrugged and walked back to his home. "I don't think anybody will miss that dog." Trevor took another swig of his beer. He needed to go back and figure out how to surprise you and maybe even coax you to being one of his drivers.

\--

You woke up the next morning covered in an uncomfortable sweat. You'd fallen asleep early last night since you got hungry, and you figured sleeping was better than starving. 

You sat on the corner of the bed in the wind stream from your swamp cooler. It brought some relief and allowed some of your sweat to dry off so that you could wear clothes again.

After using the bathroom and splashing some water on your face, you sighed. It was time for the big dilemma. What the hell were you going to eat for breakfast? 

Your eyes searched your empty cabinets. You didn't have enough to go grocery shopping, you needed what little money you had to pay property fees. If you somehow managed to get kicked out of a place where even the poorest people could afford to live, that would be your new low. 

You groaned, ultimately knowing in the back of your head what breakfast was going to be again: beer and bread. You snatched the alcoholic drink from the fridge and popped the cap off against the table, bringing out the bread bag. There were a few slices left, and they had mold on them.

"Fuck me.." You frowned, taking the moldy bread out. You carefully tore off the fuzzy parts and threw them out, eating the rest of the odd-tasting but still good parts.

You sauntered to your porch, plopping down on your chair in irritation. Something had to change soon. You couldn't live like this. And that was literal. You'd probably end up starving to death if you carried on down that road.

The sound of tires screeching around the corner got your attention. You looked over boredly and saw a familiar red truck crossing from lane to lane and stopping in front of each trailer before moving on. You sighed, heart rate picking up. You knew what this meant but you couldn't get up and run. You needed to face it head on.

Finally, Trevor stopped in front of your trailer. When the two of you met eyes, his face lit up and he jumped out of the truck, walking to your porch.

"So you found me." You gestured your beer bottle at him, still not moving even though you were indeed nervous. You had to maintain face, it was very important to you.

"I know I'm a little late, but I made it! You had me a little lost there for a moment, but Trevor Philips always finds a way." He smirked, standing at the base of your porch. "You know, most people would be running if they saw I'd found out where they lived. Especially after what you did to me." He raised a brow, keeping the mixed-signals smile on his face.

"And what did I do to you?" Your lips curled up in genuine amusement.

"You tricked me.. But that's okay, I think I can look past it this once, sweetheart. Just for you." He winked.

You sighed at his advances, looking away and taking a swig. "Well, everything about you is just rumors as far as I know. Now, I wouldn't be shocked at all to find out that they're true, but as of now they're just rumors. I don't really know you aside from the fact you're definitely smoking _something,"_ You commented.

"You're so smug, I love it. And I hate it! You're right, I've had a little bit of the crystal, but hey, who around here who hasn't?" He shrugged.

"Um, me." You squinted.

"Ohh little miss goody two shoes! Look at me, I don't do drugs!" He said the last part in a bad high pitched girly voice while waving his hands flamboyantly.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, I'm sure by most people's standards I might be classified as a functional alcoholic," You shot back, gaining another slight smile.

"Well great! You'll fit right in with T.P.I.!" Trevor held his arms out. He paused a moment, then took a step up your porch. You watched him intently, not sure what he was going to do. You kept cool, but on the inside he freaked you out.

"Geez, I've seen poor around these parts, but this place is falling apart," Trevor observed, looking around your home.

"Cash isn't exactly flowing." You shrugged, taking another swig.

"Well if it's money you need, you should have just said so! I wasn't lying about the open position yesterday," He raised his brows.

"Sexy secretary?" You scoffed, "Like I said, no thanks."

"No no, not that!" He paused for a moment, "Well, maybe that if you ever changed your mind, but I'm looking for a driver. And let me tell you, with what I saw yesterday, well.. No one has ever been able to lose me that quick, especially not on my own turf! And I'm not a bad driver!" Trevor's tone got low and oddly sincere. You turned your head towards him, squinting.

A driving job. Hell, you didn't care how much he paid, money was money.. But no. You couldn't get back into the life he was offering. You promised yourself you were going to get an honest job, maybe at some factory nearby or something.

As if sensing your apprehension, Trevor added, "I pay well. Trust me. For your services, I'd pay top grade."

"Listen, I can't really get back into that stuff. That thing you saw me in at the supermarket was just a one-time gig, I just needed a bit of money to keep me afloat for the time being."

"Well judging by the look of things I'm guessing you didn't get anything by working with tweedle dee and tweedle fuck." Trevor crossed his arms, speaking matter of fact. You scoffed, smiling again.

"That would be right. But in the end, I guess that was my mistake teaming up with them. I still have to refuse. Sorry." You leaned back.

"What? What's stopping you? Afraid you'll get caught? Your skill paired with my influence, that's basically a fucking no-go." He searched your face, but that didn't seem to be the problem. "Well what is it then? You've obviously done this before. Ooh lemme guess, you've got some big bad demons haunting you?" Your face twitched and Trevor smirked. "That's it, isn't it? Something bad happened and now you don't wanna do crime? Lemme guess, you're 'retired'?" He put finger quotes over the word, leaning in to get a better look at you.

You thought for a moment. You'd never personally described yourself that way, but you supposed it fit. "Sure why not." You nodded.

"God you're so much like him! No wonder I'm so drawn to you. Don't tell me you faked your death and you're now hiding from your best friend??" Trevor blurted out, earning him an uncomfortably weird stare from you. He waved his hands, brushing it off. "Anyways, the point is, that shit never works! If you like it and you've been blessed with that kind of skill, just do it! Don't deny yourself from doing something you love! You need money anyways! Don’t be the dumbass refusing things served up to you on a silver platter and then sit there wondering why none of the shit in your life is getting better." Trevor gestured to your trailer and you sighed. You _did_ love driving and you knew very well how good you were, but.. You couldn't get back into that life. Especially with this guy. He seemed way too unhinged.

"I'm sorry-"

"Ohhh come _on!!"_ Trevor spun around dramatically, cutting you off. "What do I have to do? Huh? You want me to get on my knees and beg? Because that'd be pretty hot!" He crossed his arms.

You huffed impatiently and took the last gulp of your beer. "Look; how about I just do one job for you and you can pay me, okay? And that's it. No more after that. I won't be filling any positions or anything like that. That's the best you can get out of me right now."

"I love a woman who knows what she wants.." He spoke in a gruff voice, getting distracted for a moment before he came to a quick conclusion for your compromise. "Alright! Fine! That'll work. But trust me, you're gonna want more. They always dooo," Trevor replied in a sing-song voice. He reached into his pocket and handed you a card. "There's my number. Get in touch with me, feel free to drop a little booty-call if you're ever in the mood. Things are always popping up so I'm sure I'll have something lined up for you soon."

"... Thanks." You awkwardly pocketed the card and Trevor hopped off the porch, just about waltzing to his truck. 

"Bye sweetheart! Call me _whenever_ you'd like!" He sent another wink your way before peeling out and vanishing down the road.

You cradled your head and took the card out again. It was just his name and number. This had better be worth it. You knew Trevor was a big deal around town and he was probably your best shot all along at making money, but you avoided it because you knew one thing he said was true:

You would probably want to come back.

Reflecting on your first real conversation with him, you weren't sure how to feel. He had a rather unpredictable energy. You felt safe enough around him, but you weren't sure if you said the wrong thing whether or not he'd snap and go crazy on you. You'd met a few people in your lifetime similar to Trevor, but he was in a league of his own. His look was like that of a stray dog, untamed and wild. For now, you'd do what you did best and try not to let him get under your skin, because you knew that's how those types of people got things from you. As long as you maintained face, you could keep the power somewhat in balance. He did unsettle you, but you could never let him see that.

Your day went on quite boring. You shot Trevor a simple text that only said, "It's the driver. Here's my number." Almost in an instant he replied.

"what, i dont evn get ur name?" You read. You sighed, thinking of another compromise.

"You can call me Red for now. That's what most of my colleagues called me." You replied, setting the phone down to avoid any further messages. 

By the afternoon, the temperature was hot enough to fry an egg on the road. You changed into shorts and a stained t-shirt, making your way to the Alamo Sea to cool off. You weren't the only one with that idea as the shore was filled with other Sandy Shores residents. You waltzed into the water, which was a pleasant change from the hot air. You sat in the shallow end, submerging half your body. The pleasant sensation of the water was able to distract you from your hunger pangs, if only for a little while before you could not help it any longer. You retreated from the water and walked down the street, half-soaked, to the nearby liquor store. 

With what little money you had, you bought some beef jerky and scarfed it down like there was no tomorrow.

You were on the way back home when you heard familiar yelling from the trailer directly next to the liquor store. It was Trevor.

"Damn it Ron! Gethafuckoutta my face!!" 

"Sorry Trevor!!" Another voice emanated from the area, much more meek and gentle than Trevor. You raised your brow, absentmindedly sticking a cigarette in your mouth. He lived _way_ closer than you thought. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

You walked back home and got your phone from inside, sitting on your porch once again, still dripping wet. Surprisingly, Trevor had not texted you back like you expected. You rested your feet on the railing, leaning back and taking in the ambience.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were almost hoping he would get back to you with a job soon. You were eager, and there was no use denying it. It'd been so long since you did a proper job, and if the rumours were true, Trevor being a big bad drug lord should net you into some pretty exciting stuff.

… Only once, of course. You reminded yourself you only agreed to do _one_ job with the man, no more. You cradled your face and bounced your leg anxiously, wishing the droning day would just be done already. You couldn't bear to be so bored any longer. 

If you had less control, you'd be tempted to text Trevor first just to have something to do, but you knew better. You barely knew the man and what kind of partner he was. Who knew how loyal he was? You needed to keep your distance, despite the small embers of interest and curiosity floating around inside you.

Your phone buzzed and you snatched it up immediately, reading the screen. It was from Trevor, making your heart speed. Did he have a job?

"bizness meeting! meet at my place. im in between the liquor store and sandy's." He typed. You shot up and quickly changed into something dry and less revealing for your own sake before darting over. A business meeting sounded promising. 

As you approached Trevor's trailer, you noted more voices coming from inside. You steeled yourself and walked up the steps, entering into a terribly messy home with three men standing around.

"Ah! There she is! This is Red, the driver I told you about. Red, these are my friends Michael and Franklin."

You shook hands with the strangers, one was a young black man who was simultaneously intimidating yet friendly, and the other was an older white man with a cold gaze and bored demeanor.

"Trevor's told us about your driving. I trust him if he says you're the real deal," Franklin said. You nodded politely. 

"Thanks."

"So what's the deal Trevor? What'd you drag us all out here for?" Michael crossed his arms. 

"That's right gentlemen," Trevor turned to you and bowed, "and fine lady. Guns!" His arms sprung up and got everyone's attention. "As you know, our friends across the border need guns! And it is my job, no, my _duty_ to supply! Ron just gave me word some illegal firearms are passing through the LS seaport hidden in a shipping container. I'm simply proposing we get those guns into better hands: mine." Trevor gestured to himself.

"Whose guns are they?" Michael asked, leaning against the counter.

"Aztecas. Or what's left of them. I figure this will be a good way to not only stomp out the competition, but what little hope they have as well." Trevor looked devilish.

"Aight man. But why you need two drivers?" Franklin asked. You locked eyes with him, slight confusion spreading across your face. Trevor noticed this and intervened.

"I neglected to mention, Red, Franklin is also one of our usual drivers. The reason I asked both of you to come along is because I need one of you to be a decoy since exiting the port is way harder than it needs to be. We'll use two similar vans and only load one with the merchandise while the other gets chased by Azteca cronies and police and the likes." Trevor waved his hand. Your brow twitched. You stared almost competitively with Franklin before guiding your attention to Trevor.

"Tell me you didn't bring me alone just to use me as bait thinking I'll get caught and it'll be an easy way to have extra help without having to give me a cut because I’ll be in jail, because let me tell you I've got a history and I'll outrun any cops or bikers and when I do I'll be expecting my damn money!!-"

"Woah woah!" Trevor put up his hands and leaned back a little. Unconsciously, you had raised your voice and began to inch towards Trevor, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "See! She can be so fiesty! I love it! Actually sweetheart, I was planning on putting you in the gun van. I trust Franklin and I know he can easily outrun the cops, not that I doubt your abilities either!" Trevor added quickly. He then looked at Franklin with a genuine look. "Is that ok with you kid?" 

Franklin looked slightly troubled, but eventually shook his head and sighed. "Yea man. I can do that. But you better start showing us some details."

"Yes! Excellent! I've actually drawn up a few things here…" Trevor walked to a wall with photos and messy scribbles all over it.

He went over the basic plan with everyone, and it was pretty decent. It was bigger game than what you were used to, but you had no doubt you could get away with it. The position Trevor gave you had less eyes on you and you were pretty decent at driving stealth despite never having dealt with the security level of a seaport.

The basic plan went as follows: during the night Michael and Trevor would be disguised as port officers. They would let you and Franklin in at the gates. Franklin and you would hide in a discreet crevice between containers while waiting for a signal from Michael and Trevor. With the help from one of Trevor's friends, they knew the location of the shipping container that needed to be struck. Along with regular port security it was also being guarded by some Aztecas, who were also disguised. Michael and Trevor would break into the container silently (although Trevor initially wanted to blow it open and be over with it), and you would meet up with them to load everything up. This part needed to be quick. In a perfect world, you would all get away without being noticed, but Trevor assumed that wouldn't happen, so he got Franklin as a decoy. You'd drive your van to Franklin and stop, letting Franklin drive on and take the heat while you waited it out. It was a risky maneuver that required precision, speed, and skill, but Trevor truly believed you could pull it off.

Standing there listening to them hash out the plan got you riled up on the inside. The satellite images of the port, the inside contacts, the sourcing, it was all much more "high-quality" than any job you'd taken, and you were excited. Deep down, you'd always hoped to "upgrade" in a sense as you felt your skills and endless years of practice could be put to better use than the local gigs you'd taken for most of your life. 

Still, you had to remind yourself this was the only job you were going to be taking, then you were done. For _good._

"So, Red, whaddaya think? Everything looking good?" Trevor asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

"Looks great. Can't wait." Unwittingly, you let some of your enthusiasm show and Trevor gained a devious smile.

"And you're still sure you only want to do _one_ job with me?" He asked.

"Yes." You sighed, Michael gave Trevor a look.

"What's that mean?" He asked.

"Well evidently Red here has got some skid marks in her past or whatever and she's 'retired' like you. Guess she just wants me for money." Trevor sneered at Michael. Michael looked at you with a much more understanding look.

"Well I personally think that's a smart choice Red, trust me you don't want to keep working for this psycho. Stay in your retirement after this, do what I could never do," Michael's tone was dripping with resentment and sarcasm. It then clicked that Michael was Trevor's "retired" friend that he had compared you to earlier.

"Oh of course you would say that, don't fill her head with bullshit!" Trevor spat out, marching angrily towards Michael, who did not move a muscle.

"I'm just telling the truth. Look what happened to me! The life I was so happily living is fucking ruined!" Michael retorted.

"You mean your life where you became a lazy fat fuck too scared to show who he truly was?!" Trevor growled.

Franklin leaned over to you amidst the yelling. "Don't worry, they do this a lot. Nothing happens.. Usually.." He spoke into your ear. 

"Looks like they have some history," You commented back.

"For sure. I don't even know the whole story yet, but it's definitely some deep shit." Franklin shook his head, leaning away from you. "Aye! So how much time we got for this whole thing?" Franklin butted in, making Trevor and Michael shut up. 

Trevor regained himself and spoke up, "The container is only going to stay in port for a few days, so we need to get our shit sooner rather than later."

"Right. I'll text you all the things we need and where each of you can probably obtain them. Franklin, I want you on vans, Red, you'll be responsible for the tools Trevor and I need to break into the containers, nothing fancy, just something to break the seal and some drills for extra measure. Trevor's got our fake credentials and I'm handling the port officer outfits." Michael spoke like a true leader, totally taking command of the scene. His years of experience leaked through his words, it was obvious he knew very well what he was doing. 

"Got it," Franklin said.

"I can do that." You followed suit, everyone in the room seemed satisfied.

"Great! Fucking peachy! Now go! Get out there and get your shit, I'll be in touch. I need some alone time." Trevor shooed everyone out rather abruptly, but he stopped you when you reached the door. "Woah! Hold on a sec. I was wondering if you wanted to stay back here with me and we could uhh.. Spend some quality time together." Trevor looked at you suggestively and you rolled your eyes, stepping out of the door. You could tell by his tone that it was nothing more than playful flirting, but it was still annoying nonetheless. 

As you walked out of his yard, Trevor leaned out of the doorway. "Some other time then?!" He called after you.

"Goodbye!" You waved without even looking back. Trevor smiled warmly before disappearing back into his trailer for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's probably more efficient ways to do the robbery, like oh why dont they just steal the entire container, but bare with me guys :( im just a fanfiction writer


	3. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking is obnoxious on an empty stomach, so you ask Trevor for some assistance.

Tools. Tools. Where the hell were you going to get tools?

The following day you paced around your trailer, thinking intensely. You could either buy them or steal them seeing as there was an abundance of construction sites nearby. It wouldn't be hard to nick some tools off some unsuspecting worker.

You stopped, holding your head in pain. You hadn't eaten anything since the beef jerky, and the heat and constant thinking had given you a terrible headache. You slumped to the floor, getting into a little ball. You needed to calm down and find something to eat. You sure as shit didn't have anything at your house, nothing that would get rid of the headache anyway. It was mostly just crumbs and scraps left in your cupboards.

Fuck, what about your painkillers? You slowly got up, wobbling with each throb of pain that seared through your skull. You picked up the painkiller bottle, which was unsurprisingly empty. You threw it at the floor angrily and sat down, shutting your eyes. God, the money from this job would be such a big help. You didn't even care if it was low, anything would be better than how broke you were right then.

You were embarrassed to do this, but you needed painkillers and there was no way you were paying for any. Eventually, you stood up and took slow steps out of your home, the bright light irritating your head even further. You shuffled down the street, unable to lift your eyes from the asphalt. You walked around the corner to Trevor's trailer and took a deep breath as you walked up the steps. 

Your knuckles barely tapped the door before his friend Ron ripped it open, looking paranoid. You didn't recognize him at first, but his voice was the one from yesterday.

"T-Trevor! There's some vixen at your door!" He yelled, looking at you nervously.

"What? I didn't order any hookers." Trevor appeared behind Ron and his demeanor suddenly changed. "Well look who it is! Ron skedaddle. NOW!" Trevor just about shoved the frail man out the door and he obliged, running away.

"See you later boss!" He called from down the street.

"Come on in." He moved to the side, but you weakly put your hand up in protest.

"No need. I just need painkillers. I ran out."

"Painkillers? Got a hangover or something? Or are you just looking to have some fun?" Trevor tilted his head.

"No, just got a really bad fucking headache, so no need for the elephant-tranq drugs thank you." You didn't want to tell him you hadn't eaten anything lest he get any ideas.

"Oh, um, okay. What's the magic word?" Trevor smiled like a sneaky child and you rolled your eyes, not wanting to deal with his antics.

"Please." You frowned.

"Well actually it was 'want to come over to my place and stay the night' but please works too I guess. One sec." Trevor went back into his unkempt home and you heard things being thrown around and crashing on the floor before he finally reappeared with a pill bottle. He threw it to you and you took some dry on the spot as he watched. "Gotta love a lady who just pops random pills out of a bottle without even reading it," Trevor commented. "Feel free to keep that, I don't really use 'em. I got other pills I prefer if you catch my drift."

"Yeah thanks, see you-" Your stomach rumbled loudly, completely giving you away. Goddamn it.

"Are you hungry??" Trevor asked quickly.

"I'll be fine."

"Nonsense! No associate of mine goes hungry! Especially not before such a big event! I insist!" Before you could protest further, Trevor had ushered you onto his cluttered couch and was rummaging through his fridge for something to feed you. 

It was an awfully kind gesture, but it confused you. Was it some sort of weird coded power play?

"Ahh yes! I got just the thing." Trevor began to take a shitload of bags out of the fridge and bring them to the counter. In one big movement he pushed everything off onto the floor to make room for the food. It was some simple sandwich ingredients. He sloppily threw things together, an expression of focus so intense you'd think he was trying to paint a masterpiece. He picked at it and flicked things away all the while you stared in subtle confusion.

"Mm. Hope you don't mind eating cigarette butts." He handed you the sloppy paper plate and any sane person would have turned something that Trevor had been touching with his bare hands down, but in that moment you swore it looked like a gourmet feast.

"No worries," You took a big bite, chewing like a rabid dog, "tobacco is my favourite vegetable." That earned a small giggle from Trevor. 

You finished the sandwich embarrassingly fast, it felt good to finally have something in your stomach aside from beer.  "Damn. You ate that fast. Kinda reminds me of when I fed some coyotes down on the corner some spoiled meat, they ate it like they hadn't touched food in months," Trevor thought aloud.

"Spoiled meat huh? Didn’t take you as the wasteful type," You mumbled, eyeing him down.

He shrugged. "I wasn't feeling particularly cannibalistic that night, so you know." 

He reeled a small laugh out of you and you shook your head, standing up again. He was certainly an interesting man. The pain hadn't completely subsided, but you were managing it a little better. "Well, thanks. I should get going."

Trevor blocked the exit. "A-Are you sure? You could stay a while. We could hang out, you and I can pop something stronger than those painkillers."

You pushed passed him, walking out the door. "I'm gonna have to decline. As much as I love getting blasted, I have to go find those tools." You walked down his porch and he leaned out of the doorway.

"So rain check?" He asked eagerly.

"Yeah in your dreams! I'll call you later when I get the stuff." Once again you waved goodbye without turning around and Trevor smiled, stepping back into his trailer.

"Ooh, she's gonna call me later," He swooned dramatically like a schoolgirl in love. He sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking around the room sternly. Welp, time to jack off.

Walking down the dusty street, your pain was fading away, allowing you to think clearly. Where were you going to get those tools? Buying them was a last resort. 

You trudged up the dunes along the side of the road, staring out to the Alamo Sea. You thought of your connections, your brain scanning every possible loose thread you could tug on. In the distance, two children played in a large puddle of mud, opting for the messy clumps instead of the cool water right next to them.

Mud. It suddenly clicked and you face-palmed. Mud was a carpenter's apprentice! Of course! If anyone had tools it would be that buffoon.

Right away, you got to scheming while speeding back to your house. You certainly weren't going to go up and ask for them, not after you'd told him to lose your number.

No, this would require a little more stealth.

Night fell and you were preparing things at your table. Earlier Franklin made a conference call to let everyone know he'd acquired the vans, which further inspired you to get a move on. Michael was still working on outfits, but other than that everyone else had their things ready to go.

Reaching into your closet, you pulled out an old dusty duffel bag you'd owned for eons by that point. "Ew.." You mumbled, flicking a few bugs that'd taken residence inside. You slapped it against the wall a few times, dust flying everywhere. 

Mud lived in one of the actual houses near the corner of Sandy Shores. Getting in wouldn't be tough and you knew the fool most certainly wouldn't be bright enough to lock up his tools very well, so it all seemed like an easy plan.

The night was warm yet cool at the same time. You casually walked down the road to Mud's house, keeping an eye out for any one of the boys. 

When you got closer, you could see Mud and Les getting shitfaced in the front yard, blasting the radio and having a good time. Of course they were hanging out as usual.

As if you belonged there, you hopped the short chain link fence into Mud's backyard, taking a look around. The shed was nearby, a rusty little thing that was nearly tipping over but still strong enough to be used. It was only protected by a thin padlock on the front latch. You quickly waltzed over, looking over your shoulder. At that angle, if Mud or Les decided to move an inch, it wouldn't have been very hard to spot you. You needed to work quickly.

Crouching down in front of the lock, you brought out your rusty bolt cutters and got to work. You clamped down, twisting and turning to snap the metal as if it were muscle memory. 

Since it was a cheap padlock, it snapped off easily. You threw it aside and cautiously opened the shed. Inside were floodlights, dusty boxes and crates, and shelves so densely covered in cobwebs you couldn't tell what was on them anymore. You gravitated towards the least dust-covered thing, which were some black crates with latches along the sides.

You opened them up, and sure enough they were tools. 

"Hey Mud, where's all the beer?" You heard Les say. Your hands flitted from case to case trying to find what you were looking for.

"In the cooler," Mud replied. Ah hah! Battery powered drills. You scrambled them up and stuffed them in your duffel bag.

"Yeah dumbass but the cooler's empty. Where're the REST?" Les slurred. You searched some more and found a pry bar and a heavy metal mallet. That was perfect. You gently put it in your bag 

"Oh well uhh I guess I got some more boxes in the back," Mud's statement caused your heart to speed. You still needed more. Something to break locks and open the seal with. You rummaged some more, chest getting a little tight. 

"Well go get em!" Les huffed.

"Alright alright jeez," Mud paused, "Uhh which one do you want?"

There! You hoisted up a hefty pipe wrench and stuffed it in your bag, zipping the contents up. It would have to work.

"Oh for- I don't care! Just go get some more!" Les yelled.

"Jeez okay, okay.."

You hoisted everything over your shoulder, the metal tools clinking against each other rather loudly. You could see Mud's shadow getting closer. "Hello?" He called out. You shut the shed door and ran away, hopping the fence in one fluid movement while clutching the bag to your chest with one arm so the tools would not make any more noise.

Just as your silhouette vanished into the street, Mud turned the corner, looking around. "... Huh. Okay." He bent over and picked up a beer crate, knowing none the wiser that he'd just been robbed.

You jogged down the street, coming to a stop when you were sure the coast was clear. Light adrenaline pumped you up and the familiar sense of pride and excitement from success surged through you. 

You picked up the phone, setting up a conference call with the boys. When they picked up, you spoke, "We're good for tools."

"Ooh, drop 'em off at my place!" Trevor spoke giddily. You shook your head and hung up, turning down the street towards his trailer.

When you got there, his door was already open, so you took the liberty of just walking in and regretted it as you were immediately greeted with Trevor pissing in his bathroom. You groaned and quickly walked to the couch. "I'm just gonna drop these off and go, okay?" You announced.

"No no!" The toilet flushed and Trevor quickly walked up, still zipping up his baggy pants, "Lemme see what you got for me," He purred, walking over to the bag. He unzipped it and sorted through the tools, nodding. "Very nice. These'll work just fine. Still think we should just blow up the fucking thing, but oh well!" 

"Thanks. I'm gonna go home, hit the hay." You turned to leave but felt Trevor grab your arm. You wordlessly spun and yanked yourself away from him, not saying anything but your expression betrayed your fear.

"Woah there!" Trevor held his hands up when he saw your face, "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt ya.. Unless you're into that. I just wanted to ask if you wanted more to eat." His eyes searched your face eagerly. You steeled yourself again, calming down. 

"No thanks, that was just a one-time thing." You shook your head lightly.

"Is everything a one-time thing in your life? Cause if so I've got a special one-time thing we can do many many times." Trevor looked at you mischievously. His comment slightly embarrassed you, but more so because he called out your blatant attachment issues.

"No, I just don't think it's a good idea for us to be getting romantic dinners together." You crossed your arms. 

"Who said anything about romantic? That's all you. Are you projecting?" He teased.

"Trevor I don't need much context to know that's what you're trying to do," You pointed out with an unamused look.

"Well, I just heard the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach." He shrugged.

You squinted for a moment. "Isn't that what they say about men?" 

Trevor waved you off. "Eh, either or, I don't really care." He spoke casually. You smiled for a brief moment and shook your head, walking out of the trailer. 

Before you could fully step out, both of your phones began to ring. It was Michael and Franklin. You curiously walked back in to Trevor, who'd answered his phone and put it on speaker.

"Yyyyellow. I got Red here with me," He said.

"Got the outfits. I'd say we're good to go," Michael's voice came from the other end. Your eyes widened and heart sped, what perfect timing. 

"Excellent! We can meet up tomorrow night, Franklin I want you to take Red to the vans, me and Michael will go to the port," Trevor instructed.

"Aight, can do man," replied Franklin.

"Alright then gents! See you tomorrow night!" Trevor hung up and looked over to you. He couldn't help but notice your excited smile, though you did your best to hide it. His hand twitched as he thought about placing it on your shoulder, but he decided against it when he remembered your expression earlier.

“So that’s it? We’re on for tomorrow night?” You asked quickly.

“Yup! Be ready to meet up with Franklin.”

You exhaled, almost wanting to break out into a small pep dance, but you maintained your composure. “Alright. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You nodded, walking out the door. Trevor watched you out of the window as you couldn’t help but do a small fist pump while going down the street. He smirked. You were like a bottle with a cork that could pop off at any moment, and it excited him to think about what you might have hiding underneath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a shorter chapter I think, sorry about that. Exciting things to come. Just finished another chapter, so I'm uploading this. My manic-ness went away, so it's been hard to write, but I'm pulling through! Your guys' appreciation gets me thru :] Thank you for reading, HAPPY OCTOBER!!!!!


	4. Port Hustle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU READY TO ROB A SEAPORT?!?  
> You go to the port to do your jobs. Mishaps happen, and when over and done with, despite better judgement, you can’t help but notice Trevor looks really good in an officer’s outfit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dashes (—) indicate a short amount of time passing or a “scene change” if you will.

The next day as the sun was low in the sky, crickets chirped boredly as Franklin's car pulled up to your trailer. You stepped out, dressed in all black rather unassuming clothes. 

"Wassup, ready to do this thing?" greeted Franklin as you slid into the passenger's seat. Some gentle rap music was playing on the radio.

"Ready as ever. I've just been reviewing the locations and I've got everything in my GPS." You shut the door and paused. "But what about you? You're the one who has to put his ass on the line the most here."

Franklin waved his hand at you reassuringly while driving away. "Nah don't even worry about it. I've lost these fools so many times, it's no big deal. By the way, Mike give you an earpiece?"

You held yours up before fastening it to your ear. "Yep. He also told me about the initial stuff, so I guess I should be calling you F from here on out huh?" Both you and Franklin laughed a bit before a comfortable silence set in for the majority of the ride.

The sun began to really set once you were both nearing the freeway exit towards Los Santos. You were almost overwhelmed at the sight of the city, a pure concrete jungle. Sometimes you forgot that the behemoth was only a few mountain ranges away from the desert. You admired the skyscrapers and unique architecture all draped in a subtle orange shade from the setting sun.

"Wow, have you lived here your whole life?" You asked. Franklin smiled at your enthusiasm.

"Pretty much. You ever been to Los Santos?" 

"I mean a few quick visits, but this is something entirely new. I've never been in such a crowded place for a job."

"Where you from then?" He asked innocently.

"Northern SanAn. You know, where there's actually trees and they grow all the good green stuff." You joked, making Franklin crack a smile. 

"I guess it can be a lot to take in for newcomers, but you'll be aight. You seem pretty confident in this plan, I trust you." Franklin nodded. You didn't stare directly, but the comment meant a lot to you coming from a partner who didn't know you very well. You'd always appreciated those kinds of small things, the acts of loyalty and solitude because at the end of the day if you can't trust and work with who you're running with, it's not gonna be good news.

Orange lights on the ground mixed with the deep purple sky above, Franklin's radio only adding further to the west coast ambience. You were getting close to the docks now, where everyone should have been waiting in theory. Franklin casually steered his car off the large bridge into a parking lot right outside a plain-looking warehouse. You got out, scanning your surroundings by instinct. 

"Here's our vans," said Franklin, gesturing to the black windowless cargo vans before you, two of the same model exactly as planned. You silently pondered where he got them. He put his finger up to his ear, "Yo, M, T, where y'all at? We at the vans." Franklin spoke into the earpiece. You fidgeted with yours slightly until you could hear everyone's voice coming in loud and clear.

"We just rotated. Guard duty by the gates. Come on down, we'll get you in." Trevor spoke. That was your sign. You hopped into the bulky vehicle, buckling up. Before anything, you took a quick moment to adjust all the mirrors to your liking, knowing it would come in handy later. You followed Franklin who guided you down the hill towards the security gates where Michael and Trevor were stationed. You pulled up to the window, seeing Michael and Trevor dressed in their black port officer outfits with shiny badges to match. It was fairly amusing and you wondered how Michael was able to get his hands on them.

"Stop the vehicle, something about credentials, blah blah blah," Trevor muttered, not really bothering to learn the full mandatory phrase. He leaned in, getting a good look at you in your van, eyebrows raising. "I think we can let you in, no questions asked pretty lady," Trevor said smoothly while Micahel rolled his eyes.

"Wait for the signal, get to your spots, we'll all be in touch." Michael pressed something and lifted the security rail, granting you two access. You followed Franklin's van further, headlights off, through the dark port. There was a light layer of fog, which aided the cause. The asphalt was wet and the multicoloured shipping containers were covered by the orange light posts everywhere, it was an oddly eerie atmosphere. Very few people were in sight, thankfully. 

Franklin and you arrived at the hiding spot, putting your vans into park in the little crevice that the shipping containers provided. It was dark as the stacked containers blocked most of the light coming through. It was akin to a discreet alley in between buildings, the backside of your van was covered by the perimeter fence, making the spot fairly secure. No one could sneak up on the both of you from behind, your frontside was guarded by heavy containers.

You both shut the engines off, waiting eagerly for the signal. Any moment, Michael and Trevor would begin breaking into the container.

Your heart was racing from excitement, making you fish out a cigarette to calm your nerves. Over the ear piece, you could hear Michael and Trevor making their way to the crate.

\--

Michael inspected the dark and murky street ahead. When he knew no more cars were likely to come, he nodded to Trevor. "Come on T, grab the tools. Let's get this over with."

The men slipped away from the security booth and into the large lot, cutting directly across the glistening pavement towards a large stack of containers, Trevor with the tools slung over his shoulder, pipe wrench in hand.

As they approached the large metal crates, two officers were at each end of the structure guarding it, most likely Aztecas in disguise. Without words, Michael and Trevor split apart to pick off each officer individually.

"Evenin’," Trevor nodded to the officer with an animalistic look in his eye.

Trevor's officer stared him down, squinting at the huge wrench in his hand. "What are you doing with that? Hey- Hey!-" The man was silenced as Trevor kissed him upside the head with the huge wrench, blood immediately splattering everywhere. At the opposite end, Michael's officer went down silently when his head was nearly twisted backwards. Trevor gave his target a few more whacks for good measure (or good pleasure) before meeting up with Michael, blood splattered along his cheeks and hands. The two men mutually nodded at each other.

Michael spoke, "Alright, which one are we lookin' for?"

Trevor pulled up his sleeve hastily and looked at a messy scribble on his forearm. "Umm number GTAU 2000820."

Michael stopped dead in his tracks. "T, did it ever occur to you what we would do if our crate was on top of another?" He sounded irritated. 

Trevor also stopped then shrugged casually, pointing at the colossal yard crane towering over them. "I can use one of those. Kind of," He replied.

Michael pinched his nose, resuming his walk. "Yeah, like that isn't gonna attract a whole lot of attention. Jesus fucking Christ.." He muttered under his breath. They walked around the containers, each of them shining their flashlights on the sides to find it. It wasn't long before Trevor spotted it.

"Over here M." He ushered the man over. Luckily, it was on the ground. Trevor set the toolbag next to him and knelt down, opening it. He handed Michael the bloody pipe wrench and mallet.

You listened from the car, taking another drag. They'd found the crate. It wouldn't be long now.

Trevor helped Michael align the bottom of the pipe wrench on the top of the lock guarding the seal. Michael hit it once, nothing happened. They aligned it again, the second hit still doing nothing.

"Would you hurry it up already?" Trevor grumbled harshly, realigning the wrench while looking around cautiously.

"It's almost there.. Just-" Michael took one last good swing and the lock broke into pieces. "There we go," Michael smirked. He wasted no time rotating both handles and tugging the container door open. He stared in slight confusion when the door did not budge, until his eyes wandered to the center of the box and his expression dropped. "T, you didn't fucking say this thing had a lockbox."

"Ummm," Trevor leaned in, gawking at the welded metal protecting the door and thick lock underneath, "it didn't. They must have put it on recently. Maybe they caught wind of someone sniffing around."

Michael sighed deeply. "Well what the fuck are we supposed to do? We don't have anything on us to bust a fucking lockbox!" He whispered angrily.

Trevor looked troubled for a fraction of a second before gaining a wicked smile. "Oh but we  _ do," _ He reached into the bag and pulled out a sticky bomb.

You sat in the driver's seat with your arms crossed, listening to the men bicker with a concerned expression. You almost felt bad for not bringing anything in the case of a lockbox, but in your defense there wasn't much that could break through one without being extremely loud and time consuming. You were interested in what Trevor had brought up to make Michael so appalled, however.

_ "Absolutely not.  _ Are you crazy?" Michael denounced.

"Do you have any other fuckin' bright ideas?" Trevor growled, then the line went silent.

"Ummm.. What's going on?" Franklin's fuzzy voice asked.

"T wants to blow up the door." Michael's voice was flat. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head.

"That would attract every single cop to us within minutes though," You quickly added.

"Exactly." Michael sighed.

"Well it's either this or fucking nothing. This container probably won't be here by the morning." Trevor pressed on, getting irritated. Everyone then went silent for an uncomfortable amount of time.

You heard Michael sigh once more, this time much longer and laced with a growl. "Red. If we blow this thing up, do you think you can get here fast enough for us to get all this shit in the van?" Michael asked, making your heart speed.

"Yes." You were direct and determined. Your ego may have clouded your true judgement right then, but if anyone could do it, it was you.

"Alright. We're gonna light her up. You need to be  _ ready _ . As soon as you hear her blow, you need to haul ass down here." Instructed Michael.

"Got it." You revved up the van in preparation, getting your hands on the wheel. 

The following silence was terrifying but exhilarating. Any moment, the container would blow and subsequently flood the port with cops. Both of the time windows for you and Franklin had been chopped by more than half, upping the risk factor dramatically.. And by proxy, your enthusiastic thrill.

The explosion echoed throughout the port quicker than you expected, and your foot was on the gas in an instant. You peeled off towards the destination, weaving around corners and through crates, executing a forward 180 so you could meet the boys with the van already facing backwards. You stopped a few feet away from the smoldering door, Michael and Trevor already getting to work hoisting the boxes up and out of the container.

Not even a minute passed before sirens and alarms were going off every which way. You threw yourself out of the van, darting out to back and throwing open the doors to the trunk. Michael and Trevor threw one wooden crate in before Trevor got out his gun, running along the other side of the container as security cars began to pull up.

"I'll hold 'em off! Get those crates in!" He called out.

You and Michael took the initiative, quickly reentering and exiting the wrecked container while throwing the heavy gun crates into the back. They certainly weighed a lot, but with Michael's help and the adrenaline coursing through you, you managed to pick them up with little hassle.

"FUCK YOU!!" You heard Trevor yell amongst the gunshots ringing out into the night. He'd come in and out of cover, pointing his gun and shooting while laughing every time he took out an officer or Aztecas. In the brief moments you were able to watch him in action, you knew you had never seen a crazier or more determined man.

While hoisting one of the last few crates into the van, a stray bullet pierced the side of your abdomen. You didn't feel it at first, only knowing you'd been hit when your body buckled, causing Michael to scramble and nearly drop the crate.

"Fuck!" You hissed. "I think I got hit." Michael threw the crate in the back and quickly inspected you. Sure enough, blood was beginning to leak through the hole in your shirt, making it stick to your skin.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked rapidly. You nodded, cringing at the sudden burning and aching sensation travelling through your body. "Are you sure?" He reiterated.

"Come on, just a few more," You grunted, sauntering back into the container. You managed to hoist the last few in, Michael taking on more of the weight than before. It sent a sharp pain through you each time. Michael got in the back and shut the doors as you hobbled back to the driver's seat again.

"T, come on!" He yelled through the earpiece. Trevor began to run back to the van, firing a few more shots into the crowd of cop cars until he reached the passenger's seat. He got in, still aiming his gun out the window and giving the car a little tap to signal you to drive. 

Your eyes narrowed. Now was the time to shine.

The wheels screeched against the asphalt as you stepped on it, some friction smoke coming from the burning rubber. The car jolted forward and Michael just about fell over in the back, cursing loudly. You blasted off through the containers, left-foot braking and skidding the car skillfully around containers in an attempt to lose the majority of cops who were already on your tail. The van was already a big car, and with the added weight of the guns in the back, it was proving to be a major test of your skills. Trevor shot back at the cars, even managing to pop a few tires and make the vehicles spin out. 

"F, nearly there, be ready!" You announced loudly.

"I'm good to go!" He replied, just as much anticipation in his voice as yours. You skidded around the corner again, brows creasing in determination as the crevice rapidly approached. Trevor leaned back into the car and concealed himself, watching as things seemingly moved in slow motion as you put both feet down, spinning the car into the crevice with a sudden halt. Franklin hauled ass right as you turned off the engine, turning around the corner and taking the heat from the police officers.

Everyone in the van held their breath as multiple police vehicles sped by, their cars nothing more than a black and white blur. The last of the cars raced onwards, none of them noticing that the vans had been switched out.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding, smiling in relief. Trevor began to laugh triumphantly, slapping the dash. "Yes! YES!! That is what I'm talking about baby! That was flawless!!" He turned to you, ready to share his enthusiasm, but his expression quickly changed when he saw you looking at the blood seeping from your torso. "Holy shit! Are you alright?" He leaned closer and carefully lifted up your shirt to better examine the wound. It was below the right side of your ribcage, more towards your waist than stomach. You'd never thought you'd let him lift your shirt like that, but in that situation you found it oddly reassuring.

Michael took the time to make his way up to the front in between the two seats to also examine the damage. Trevor eased you forward, his large hands cautiously travelling your body as he checked to make sure there was no exit wound. Thankfully, there wasn't.

"It's starting to hurt like hell, but I'm sure I'll be okay once we get it some attention. I’ve seen worse." Your words came out forced but were genuine. You certainly weren’t lying about the last part.

"Looks like she'll make it, it doesn't look like it went too deep or hit anything, not bleeding as bad as it could be," Michael reasoned, making you feel better. Trevor still had worry etched across his face, but he nodded in agreement, reluctantly removing his hands from you.

"Put pressure on it sweetheart. We'll be outta here in no time. If you want, me or Mikey could take over," Trevor suggested.

"No!" You blurted loudly, but then got slightly flustered from your strong reaction. "N-No. I can see this through," You continued.

"Don't let pride get you killed," Michael said.

"It's not pride. I'm fine." You grumbled, brows drawing together. You wouldn't quit halfway through another job, you just couldn't. Michael shrugged when it was clear there was no room left for argument.

"It's your funeral," He commented. Trevor sent him a nasty glare and Michael raised his brows. "Not literally of course. Um, I'm gonna tie everything down back here." He awkwardly exited the conversation, getting to work on securing the crates in the back so they wouldn't kill him while you drove.

Trevor watched you from the corner of his eye as you sat there, hands holding down your wound. His heart was thudding with raw emotion. It was then he realized he didn't want to lose you. Damn it Trevor, there you go again getting attached to someone you barely knew. But he felt like he  _ did _ know you. Your sarcasm, secret strength, icy exterior with definite baggage underneath. His gaze wandered to Michael who was working in the back. He had already "lost" a friend in a score before, he refused to let it happen again.

Mere minutes passed before Trevor couldn't take it anymore. "We have to go." His voice was low and serious. Michael and you gawked at him.

"T, it's too soon," Michael pointed out.

"We have to get her back!" Trevor aggressively gestured to you, turning back to Michael who was still securing things to the van.

"No, I'll be fine, I can make it," You reassured.

Trevor turned to you. You could see the raw passion in his eyes. It shocked you a little. No one had ever looked at you with such pure emotion before. "Bullshit. It's going to take us a while to get back to the desert for you to get patched up. By the time we get there, who knows what state you'll be in? And I refuse to dump you at some fucking random hospital," He growled. 

"Trevor. If we leave now and get spotted by the lingering security, we're going to have to deal with a lot more than this little thing on me here," You waved at your wound.

Trevor made a guttural noise and turned away, slamming the seat. "I don't care, I'll kill em all!" He raged.

"T, calm down-" Michael started.

"I am calmed down! Drive before I blow this van up!" He shouted, making you jump slightly. 

You took a deep breath, trying not to explode back at him, knowing it would make things infinitely worse. You reasoned quickly in your head. Franklin looked like he took most of the heat with him, and he was definitely long gone by now. But you knew they would for sure have the gates blocked, no entry or exit. You groaned, cupping your face with one hand. On one hand, you knew you couldn't afford to stay there for very long. On the other, driving away from the police with your busted side wasn't going to be easy, but then again, you didn't agree to work with Trevor because it would be easy. 

"Fuck! Alright, fine," You griped, turning the van on. 

"Wait Red, just wait a second-" Michael spoke again.

"Just tie those things down before it gets really bad!" You commanded, pulling out of the crevice. Knowing he had no choice left, Michael got to work, hastily securing the boxes down for his own sake while muttering strings of curses under his breath.

Trevor kept his eyes peeled outside as you glided down the lot, not too fast or slow to avoid attention. The gated exits were up ahead, swarming with officers. You looked around, noting the fenced perimeter. There was one clear spot which wasn't well-illuminated and in a blind spot. You turned to it, planning to smash through and speed away before the officers could comprehend what was happening.

You waited until the last moment before speeding up, engine revving loudly in the night. "Michael, hold on!" You shouted. The van bursted through the chain link fence, knocking the structure off of it's hinges. It lurched forward, throwing everyone around a little bit. Next to you, Trevor haphazardly put on his seatbelt and you followed his actions, using your bloodied hand. 

You managed to make it a fair distance up the spiraling on-ramp to the freeway before police vehicles were tailing you. You cursed lightly, wishing the van had a rear window. All you had to rely on were the mirrors. The sirens blared and the surroundings were engulfed in blinking red and blue lights in an instant.

"Pull over immediately!" They called out on the loudspeaker. Instead, you sped up and made it onto the freeway, rushing past the sparse traffic. Trevor reloaded his gun and leaned out of the window again, shooting at them as best he could. "Pull these bullets out of your cock!!" Trevor roared in reply.

Michael made his way to the front and clung to the seats for dear life, not being able to do much else without risk of the cargo being damaged. You traded your hand from your wound to the wheel, neatly swerving the van in between cars and lanes. The cops were obviously faster, but your constant merging made it difficult for them to try and pull any maneuvers on you without hitting any pedestrians.

In the mirror you saw one of the cop car's tires deflate, spinning it on it's side and causing more destruction as two other cars behind it collided. "Haha! Yes!" Trevor laughed, coming back in for cover. 

The victory was short lived however. "Spikes!" Michael pointed out ahead. Two police cars and a strip of road spikes were up waiting for you. You grinned, spotting a convenient break in the concrete partition just ahead of it.

"Michael, you're really gonna wanna hold on," You commented before roughly swerving the car into oncoming traffic. 

"Woo-hoo-hoo!!" Trevor cheered, "Now we're having fun! Michael, gimme a bomb!" Trevor held his hand out, making little grabby motions.

"You're gonna have to give me a fucking second!" Michael let go of the seat, moving into the back. You swerved out of the way of an oncoming semi, nearly sending him into the wall. "Jesus Christ!" He yelled.

With some trouble, he grabbed the duffel bag and clawed his way back up to the front, being thrown around quite a few times. Trevor snatched up the bag and took out a bomb, a sadistic look etched across his face. More cops were tailing you than before, shouting over the loudspeaker and deafening you with their sirens. The metal clinks of bullets riddling the van filled your ears and you could only hope none of them would hit you again.

"Bombs away!" Trevor stuck his hand out the window, calculating things in the mirror for a moment before casually dropping it onto the road. Not even a few seconds later, the shockwave from the explosion jolted the van and you could see multiple cop cars launch into the sky in flames.

"Yes!! Woo!!" You cheered, swerving out of the way of a sedan. Trevor looked at you, able to fully register how excited you were in that moment. Your eyes were filled with the exact same ecstasy that he and Michael got when pulling a score. It was so enamouring, he couldn't comprehend why you hid it so much. In that moment, he swore he was in love.

You switched lanes again, mowing down some cones when you crossed through the concrete partition to get back on the right side of the road. Los Santos was coming up quick. More police would assuredly be waiting for you, so as soon as you crossed into that city your one and only job was losing them as quickly as possible.

Due to Trevor's bomb, only two cars were able to follow you off of the exit. You left-foot braked once more, taking a quick right to throw them off. The world was your oyster now, you could take any route you wanted from there. Next to you, Trevor occasionally kept leaning out to shoot at the cars. In the back of your head, you wondered how Franklin was fairing. He had to have gotten worse heat than you. You had a newfound respect for him as a fellow driver, being able to take on the situation.

"In there, take the alley!" Michael guided you once more, pointing out a thin opening in between buildings. You drifted around the corner, edges of the van briefly scraping the edge of the building before you were flying past dumpsters and graffiti ridden walls. The police had trouble matching your speed, having to slow their turn lest they crash. You blasted out on the other side of the street, just barely missing a truck who honked at you. You swerved and skidded onto the other side of the road, taking off through multiple red lights and scared drivers. 

"Looks like we got a road-block up ahead," Trevor pointed out, eyebrows drawing together. It was two police cars on each side of the road, both parked across two lanes to stop you. Your eyes flitted around, brain working at lightspeed to come up with a solution while speeding at them at over 80 mph. There was nowhere to turn, no way out of this one. You were going to have to face it head-on.

"Okay. Brace yourselves." You gently guided the van in line with the police car, a few cops stood behind it, aiming their guns at you. Once they realized you weren't stopping, shots were fired, one of them piercing the windshield. 

“Jesus fuck!” Michael exclaimed from the back. You got as low as you could without sacrificing your vision and Trevor fired back, Michael diving behind his seat. You lined up the van's frame rails with the rear tire of the police car, clenching the steering wheel as the two vehicles made an impact. The police car was blown out of the way, taking out the cops with it, and you were able to get through without losing much speed or spinning out.

"Hahahah!! YES!" Trevor peered back out at the scene, huge smile on his face, "I fucking love you!" He yelled, but you didn't really hear nor register his comment in the heat of the moment.

"Fucking hell!" Michael barely managed to sit back up from the collision, clenching the driver's seat. It'd knocked him back a fair bit. The car you didn't hit began to chase after you, but by the time the officers reentered their car and tried to catch up to you it was too late. You drifted around another corner and then went into the first alley you saw, not allowing them to see you turn for a second time. 

Pulling another forward-180, you parallel parked between two dumpsters and turned the engine off, breathing heavily from all the adrenaline in your system. Once the van was silent, you could clearly hear the massive amount of sirens echoing across the city. It sounded like they were coming from every corner of the sky, but fortunately no cars came to inspect the alley.

All too quickly, the pain in your abdomen came back and you pressed your hand against it, making a slight grunting noise. All the bumping and thumping from your aggressive driving didn't exactly help your cause.

Trevor turned around in his seat, "Everything okay back there?" He asked.

"Yeah I'm just peachy.." Michael replied sarcastically.

"Not you Michael, my guns!"

"Oh well gee thanks!" Michael frowned. He took his sweet time and did a small check before shuffling back up to the front. "Everything's looking fine. The crates got a little bumped up, but nothing too serious."

"Perfect! Everything is looking good!" Trevor rubbed his hands together.

"Yeah, everything except Red." Michael nodded to you, busy pressing your hand into your side and leaning back against the seat in clear discomfort. You could almost feel your heart about to jump out of your chest.

Trevor leaned in to inspect you. "How you doing sweetheart?" He asked. You simply gave a shaky thumbs up in response.

Radio static emanated from behind you and you lazily looked in the rearview mirror to see Michael messing with his phone. 

"What're you doing?" You asked.

"Police scanner app. I'm gonna see if I can find where they set up any more roadblocks so we can try and get back without any more trouble."

"Ooh, look at grandpa, he's figuring out how to use his phone!" Trevor teased, earning a simple middle finger from Michael.

It felt like forever, but in reality a few minutes passed before Michael was able to lay out a route to get back without high risk of being stopped. 

"Fuck! I almost forgot, Michael help me put the logos on," Trevor spoke up.

"What logos?..." You asked slowly, gaining a suspicious look. Michael was awkwardly silent, eyes as wide as saucers.

"We stashed some logos in the back that we could stick on the sides of the van," Trevor replied casually.

Your eyes widened and you sat up quickly, wincing from the pain that shot through you. Your anger masked it, though. "You had fucking logos the whole time?! You mean we could have just driven out at the port?!" You shouted at them.

"I'm sorry, I was so worried about you I forgot!" Trevor pleaded dramatically, clasping his hands together. You turned to Michael.

"And you? What's your excuse?" You glowered. 

Michael looked around, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. Eventually he gave up and just pointed at Trevor saying, "Same as him."

You sat back roughly and held your face. "Un-fucking-believable.." You muttered. Trevor and Michael got out, not taking very long to stick on some pest control logos to the van. You stewed angrily in the front seat, upset that you'd outrun the cops for no reason. The only reason you weren't trying to completely throttle the men was the fact that it  _ was _ pretty fun. You hadn't driven like that in years, and it felt good to be back in the action.

From then on, you were able to drive back in relative peace, this time following traffic laws as to avoid attention. Along the way, you pulled into an abandoned lot and dropped Michael off, as was part of the plan. You made your brief goodbyes and carried on, the pain in your abdomen was almost too much to handle every time the van hit even the smallest of bumps or potholes.

The Vinewood sign came and went when you got on the road to the desert, looping and curving around the surrounding mountains. Trevor could see your pain, but he stayed silent. Without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand over the hand you were using to keep pressure on the bullet hole. Your eyes widened and you quickly pushed his hand away, smearing blood on it. "N-No Trevor.." Your voice was meek and awkward, face beginning to turn hot in shame. He quickly pulled his hand away and looked out of the window, scowl forming on his face. You couldn't let him do that, this was strictly business. You wanted the comfort more than anything in the world at that moment, but not from him. It would complicate things too much.

You were getting more and more fatigued on the way back to Sandy Shores. By the time you reached Trevor's trailer, you felt like going into a deep slumber. You pulled the keys out of ignition, sighing deeply. Trevor almost immediately got out and went around your side, opening your door and helping you out. You were still lucid enough to walk around, so you refused his support wherever you physically could. You knew Trevor must have taken offense at that, but he didn't say anything surprisingly.

You slowly sat on his couch, mesmerized at how much blood had come from you. It wasn't as much as it could have been since you were obviously still kicking, but it wasn't just a drip either. It’d been so long since you were that soaked in your own blood. Intrusive flashes of the past raced through your head, making you more stressed that you were. Trevor ran to his room, grabbing a first-aid kit and he came out, kneeling before you. You could see his cop outfit in full light now. It was quite silly and made you smile. It was the only thing that made the situation easier, distracting you from your disturbing thoughts. Trevor looked much too scary to be a cop, with his scabbed and bruised hands with "FUCK YOU" tattooed across his knuckles and his scarred face which held a constant scowl. And yet somehow, his touch was more gentle than a feather when he handled you. You were shocked, needless to say. Why weren't there any rumors about this side of the man?

"Alright, let's sort this out." Trevor lifted your shirt and you reclined onto the couch, giving him the best angle for access.

"What do you know about this kind of stuff?" You asked slowly, looking away from the wound.

"You think this is my first rodeo?" He replied with a scoff, grabbing some supplies from his bag. He lifted a bottle of rum, pouring it into your wound. Your entire body tensed and you cringed, biting your cheeks so you wouldn’t yell. Trevor then handed you the rum and you drank it gratefully, knowing you were going to need it. It was shit alcohol, but it was preferable to nothing. Once all the blood was cleaned off, Trevor paused, gawking at your body. It wasn't a look of lust like you’d expect, but one of confusion and shock.

"Jesus, what the hell happened to you?" He asked, pointing out the huge scars running up and down your torso. There was plenty of old burn tissue as well, mostly around your upper rib cage and the inside of your arms. Some were long and deep, running up your sides and others were short and raised, the pigment lighter than the rest of your skin. It was a gruesome sight, but you’d always tried your best to ignore them.

"Told you I've seen worse.." You muttered, looking away again and taking a sip. You’d gotten them in your big accident all those years ago. The goddamn one that kept giving you nightmares.

" _ Apparently _ . Maybe I was too worried about you.." He shook his head, carrying on, "Is that why you're called Red? Cause you're fuckin’ bleeding all the time?" He half-joked, earning him a displeased stare from you.

"No. It's after my old hometown." You stated rather plainly. Trevor raised his brow, threading some dental floss through a needle.

"Which iiiis..?" He pushed on.

"Up north. You know, where trees grow." You obliged, letting on more information. You still weren't sure how far to go, but seeing how worried he was about you and how he was literally stitching you back up, you trusted Trevor a little more.

"Y-You mean like Canada??" He asked excitedly. Judging from his tone, it must have meant something personal to him.

"No, Northern San Andreas." You laughed a little at his childlike giddiness, but it was quickly replaced with a small yelp when he pushed the needle through your skin.

"Hold still, fuck. My hands aren't the steadiest anymore." Trevor was then completely focused, licking his lips occasionally and watching his handiwork intensely. His stitches were nothing professional, but they certainly had experience behind them. “Northern San Andreas, huh? Why in the hell’d you move here? Not that it’s a bad thing of course, I’m blessed by your presence.” He gave you a cheeky grin. If he wasn’t stitching you up, you would have pushed his face away.

“Accident. Ow!” You jumped, making Trevor flinch.

“Damn it, drink more! I can’t have you dancing you all over the place..” Trevor pouted. You obliged with no problem and took another steep swig, hissing at the burn the rum created in your throat. “How the fuck did you live through an accident that gave you all this?” He asked.

“I shouldn’t have, in all honesty..” You were beginning to grow uncomfortable thinking about it.

“Nonsense, then who would be my new favourite driver?” His words made you laugh a little bit, if anything at how enthusiastic the man seemed to be about you. It definitely brought a mixed feeling, but it was amusing nonetheless.

You were silent from then on, trying your best to focus elsewhere, like the tons of nudie magazine photos Trevor hung up on his walls. In desperation, you kept chugging the rum, hoping it would kick in faster. Halfway through the stitching it finally did and you squirmed much less, letting Trevor work much more fluidly. As he finished the last knot, the bottle was nearly slipping out of your fingers. Trevor snipped the floss and put a bandage around it afterwards.

"Alright, you should be good. Don't fuckin' touch it or else you can sew it back up yourself." He pointed his calloused finger at you sternly.

As he turned around to put the supplies back in his room, your drunken brain couldn't help but gravitate towards his ass. You gawked in surprise. Jesus, why did a meth-head have such a tight ass? Your eyes travelled up and down, realizing his entire body was rather in shape. He had a rather broad chest and thick arms to match, the form-fitting officer outfit highlighted all of the features exponentially. You smirked to yourself, enjoying the eye candy. You took another swig of rum, feeling much better than before. You were too much of a coward to say anything when you saw someone you thought was attractive. All you could bear to do was watch from afar and enjoy the show. In fact, admiring people from afar was probably the most action you'd got in years.

Trevor walked back out and your eyes were glued to his chest, drinking it all in. Damn you hated yourself for doing this. This was exactly the type of thought process you didn't want to form. It wasn't your fault he only ever wore baggy clothes! If you had known he was that built you may have had second thoughts about working with him. At least it was purely physical attraction. You could control that much better than any stupid romantic feelings. 

Trevor followed your gaze and raised his brow, smirking a little. "See something you like sweetheart?" He purred.

You pointed the bottle at him, "Whose badge is that?" You smoothly covered your ass. His flirty demeanor died down a little when he thought he misjudged your staring, but he was equally curious. He plucked the badge off and inspected it, squinting.

"Ummm someone named Garcia. Whoever it was, they're probably fuckin' dead now." Trevor laughed, flicking the badge into the trash. An extreme distaste for cops. You could relate. You took another swig of rum, some of the liquid messily dribbling down your chin. He eyed you suspiciously, seeing how wasted you were already. "How much of that did you drink??" He frowned.

"Ummmm..." You held the bottle in front of your face, liquid sloshing around. More than half of it was gone less than an hour after you'd gotten ahold of it. Trevor walked over and snatched it away, putting the cap back on. You made no protest, but gave him the stink eye anyway.

"I don't need you getting alcohol poisoning after I spent all that time fixing you up, thanks. If you're gonna do that, drink your own liquor." Once again, Trevor walked back to his room to put the bottle away and you raised a brow, staring at his backside. You could get used to this.

Your eyes were half-lidded and by the way you were sinking into the messy couch, it was clear you weren't going to be awake much longer. Trevor told you something about getting the guns and then something about blowing up a van but you weren't really listening too well. You were too busy staring at him everytime he turned around or moved. The night went on and you didn't remember falling asleep like a bag of potatoes on his couch, but apparently you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I did good to write some action! While yes, I am here for the romance and lovin’, I also hope this could pass off as plausible in the GTA universe. Obviously it’s not an actual mission, but I never really liked word for word and scene for scene copying missions into my stories unless I really have to, so I opted to just make crap up. I also neglected to mention this, but these events take place sometime BEFORE Bury The Hatchet but after Caida Libre. Anyway, more to come as usual. P.s. I would like to apologize if my formatting is weird. I transfer these from google docs and they look so much better on there LOL


	5. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big angst in this chapter. Then lots of drinking. Then doing donuts in the desert. Trevor gives you an ultimatum.

Tap tap tap.

You stirred, not opening your eyes. You’d been snapped out of your sleep, but you weren’t fully awake. Dear God, what was that smell?

Tap tap tap.

You shifted, hearing an aluminum can fall onto the floor when you did so. You were going to shoot whatever was making that noise.

Tap tap tap.

“Alright, FUCK! I’m coming!” Trevor shouted.

Your eyes flew open and you gasped, remembering you were in his house. You shot up, an immense pain flying through your abdomen.

“Ow- Fuck!” You hissed. Trevor looked at you when he walked out of his room. 

“I told you not to fuckin’ move!” He then ripped open his door, “Wade! What the fuck do you want?!”

“I just came to tell you that me and Ron got all those guns where you wanted them!” His friend replied. You couldn’t help but notice he sounded vaguely like Mud. While you couldn’t fully see him, you caught a glimpse of his dreadlocks and baggy shorts in the doorway. You recognized them and realized that you’d seen him running around from time to time, but you never knew his name. You also didn’t know he was a friend of Trevor’s. Made sense. He seemed like a really impressionable kid.

“Excellent! Next time just fucking text me! There’s a lady sleeping in here!” Trevor frowned.

“I-I’m sorry Trev! You know how Ron gets about phones. I didn’t mean to wake up any of your working ladies-“

“She’s not a hooker you imbecile! Well, not this time.” Trevor almost reached out and choked Wade for saying that, but refrained. Your lips curled up at how defensive he got over your reputation. It made you feel some type of way, but you tried not to dwell on it. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Wade backed away and ran down the stairs and into the street. Trevor watched him leave for a short moment before shutting the door and shaking his head. You both locked eyes and his face softened ever so slightly. 

“Did Franklin call? Did he get away okay?” You asked suddenly, remembering his situation. Trevor seemed confused for a moment. 

“.. Yes. He was talking to both of us on the phone last night. You weren’t  _ that _ wasted, how do you not remember? Did you get a concussion you aren’t telling me about? I wouldn’t be surprised, you were saying some weiiirrd shit last night,” Trevor prodded, but his jab went over your head. 

“He called? Huh?” You squinted with equal confusion, trying to remember the night. He was right, you didn’t get that wasted, so why couldn’t you remember? Your memories got foggy around the time Trevor kept walking in and out the trailer while making constant phone calls with random people. 

“... Yes?” Trevor walked closer, inspecting you.

“I don’t remember..” You mumbled, staring at the floor in deep thought.

The man’s eyes spotted something near you and his expression shifted into one of realization. “Well of course you don’t!” Trevor reached down to the rug and picked up a pill bottle which had been dropped, presumably by you, and the small orange tablets inside had been spilled everywhere, “Jesus, were you trying to fucking die? How’d you find my Zolpidem?” Trevor hastily scooped all the contents back into the bottle and your face went pale. 

“Sleeping pills?!” You exclaimed. You felt red hot shame creep up your body as you cradled your face. Your old habits were beginning to resurface. This was bad news. “Fuck, I can’t be around here anymore.” You grabbed onto the back of the couch, slowly standing up and walking to the door.

“W-Wait, it’s okay! Really! I can get more of these! Sharing is caring!” Trevor bargained.

“No!” You turned to him, anger creeping onto your face, “I can’t be getting fucked up anymore, I told you I gave all that up. Look- When am I getting my money?” You didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you’d had enough at that point. You realized that you were crossing boundaries that you didn’t want to go back to when you hung around Trevor for even a short amount of time.

“S-Soon, but listen, I’ve got another thing coming up that I could use your help on-“

You cut him off again, “Trevor, I told you this was a one-time job. I’m not going to do anything else..” You looked away, subtle disappointment in your eyes.

“Oh quit bullshitting yourself, it’s not a good look on you.” His brows drew together. “I can respect anyone who wants to work and make honest money or whatever the fuck, but I can’t stand people who lie and purposefully make themselves miserable for no good reason!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You clenched your fist, trying to hold back your anger.

“See! There it is! Get angry! If I make you angry, then GET ANGRY! I saw you last night and you were having the time of your life getting away from those cops, yet you want to stand here and act like you’re sooo above it all, oh boohoo I’m gonna act like a fuckin’ phony for the rest of my life all because of what? Some stupid accident?” Trevor waved his hands around dramatically, ending his jab with a fierce look in his eye. This enraged you.

“I killed some of my great running buddies for no good reason. I was lucky to get out alive. You saw the scars,” You shut your eyes, fists clenching tighter, “And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!” Your voice raised, but it was nowhere near the level of anger and frustration you truly felt. 

Trevor scoffed and turned around a few times, waving his arms around in frustration as if he was trying to find the right words to say. “Fuck!” He spat out, spinning around towards you, “I can’t fucking  _ stand  _ people like you! But I also fucking love you!” He growled. You’d never heard someone say the word ‘love’ so aggressively yet genuinely.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You don’t fucking know what you’re talking about. You barely know me.”

“Oh I can take a hint darling. You’re not that complicated.”

Your eyebrows knitted together and your jaw tightened. You had to leave before you ended up taking a swing at Trevor and making things worse. You pointed your finger at him with an icy glare, “Just get me my fucking money.” You spun on your heel and went to the door before pausing, fist shaking by your side. “And thank you... For patching me up.” Your voice was dark and forced, trying your best to keep it calm-sounding. You continued your walk out, knowing full well that you had Trevor to owe for you being alive at that moment. It made you even more angry, but at that point you weren’t sure if it was at him or yourself. Everything he said was true and you knew it, but you couldn’t fucking stand it. 

“I’ll be in fucking touch!” Trevor yelled behind you, making it harder not to walk right back in and strangle him. Had he not heard a single thing you just said? You walked faster, thundering down the streets of Sandy Shores. You swore if anything got in your way you’d lift it up and throw it into the middle of the Alamo Sea. 

Fortunately for any bystanders, you made it back to your trailer uninterrupted. Throwing open the front door, you stomped to your bathroom, finally able to release your rage. You glared at yourself in the mirror, repeating Trevor’s words in your head over and over again. What the fuck did he know? Who was he to assume he knew anything about you? You had every right to feel fucked up about your past.. Right? Everything you were doing was going to help you. It was better that you got out of that life after things had ended so badly. Sure, it felt bad now to restrain yourself, but it would get better once you got used to it.

Flashbacks of the car rolling down the cliff assaulted you. You shouldn’t have lived. You shouldn’t have been able to crawl out of the burning wreck while everyone else inside the car was a mutilated mess, you included. Even then, you should have died from your wounds when you fled the scene into the woods. It was all your fault that things went down the way they did that day. Your poor judgement got your friends killed.

You’d started crying, your tears were red hot and felt messy, just like your thoughts. It was wet anger, the kind where you could not control your impulses and keep yourself collected. The anger where involuntary tears formed and things got broken. You screamed and punched the mirror, sending shards of glass all over the floor and into your knuckles. You could feel the terrible stinging pain, but your brain ignored it at the same time, anger dulling everything else around you. 

Your eyes bore into your trembling hand, blood dripping onto the broken glass shards on the floor. You still didn’t feel better. In a twisted way it made you even more upset when you lost control like that. Your breathing quickened and you walked out into your kitchen/living area, searching for anything in sight that could be broken, jaw clenched tight. You proceeded to flip out, overturning furniture and throwing pots and pans through your windows while yelling loud profanities, not having the rationality to think about the consequences. You hated this trailer. It was the bane of your existence, representing the root of all your troubles in that very moment. Everything was falling apart already, you might as well just break it all completely. You grabbed an empty beer bottle on the counter, wiping blood all over it, and threw it on the wall where it exploded into a million little pieces upon impact. You took another bottle and did the same thing, feeling a little better with each loud shattering noise. Five bottles and a floor full of glass later, you’d regained some sense. 

You leaned back against the kitchen counter, panting heavily. The pain in your hand was excruciating now, mixing with the gunshot wound in the side of your body. You slunked down onto the floor, gripping your cut hand tightly and cringing, suddenly feeling a wave of depression come over you. Trevor was right. He said all the things that you avoided thinking about. He made you question your reasons and whether or not you were justified in ever feeling sad in the first place. Your state of misery was completely your doing, after all. You had such a great skill in your arsenal, yet you refused to utilize it. You knew you could be rolling in money, and it was entirely your own fault that you weren’t. YOU were the only one who could turn your life around.

The rational part of your brain kicked in as you looked around the scene you had just caused. You were right for wanting to be more restrained. Look at what you had just done to your own home after hearing things you knew all along.

_ No, you were this angry because you restrained yourself. It built up to the point where it exploded. _

But you did drugs last night without even remembering. You could have died from mixing those two substances and you were weak to fall back into your old ways. Trevor was an enabler and he should be avoided.

_ No, Trevor saved your life. He patched you up and tried to comfort you even when you pushed him away. He wasn’t the one forcing anything upon you, it was all your own doing. All he did was tell it how it was. _

After sitting on the floor and soaking in your sea of sorrow for a good while, your heart calmed and slowed. Numbness took over. As if on auto-pilot, you shakily stood back up and slowly went around your house, flipping the furniture back around and picking up discarded kitchenware off the glass-ridden floor. Each step you took made a loud crunch noise, further embedding the shards below you into the crooked stained rug. In the corner of the trailer you grabbed an old broom which had been duct-taped together multiple times around the midsection. Your head felt completely empty and miserable as you focused on sweeping the glass into a small pile in the kitchen. Your face felt cold and bloated from crying, and it was one of the few things you felt aside from the blood still trickling down your fingertips.

You set the broom aside and went back into the bathroom, even more glass crackling beneath your shoes. In the medicine cabinet behind your now-shattered mirror was an old triangular bandage you’d been saving in case anything happened. You took it out and unpackaged it, keeping it bunched up. You hastily picked all the glass out of your knuckles, gritting your teeth the whole way through, and then put the bandage on top to soak up all the blood. 

You went to your room next, grabbing an old shirt you never wore and you ripped it into a thin strip. You held down the bandage and tied the ripped fabric around, leaving it tightly in place and making your hand look like a chunky mummy’s. 

This trailer killed you. You couldn’t take one more second inside of the place. You walked out of your home with an empty expression, solemnly taking a seat on the porch in the front. That freak out was totally unwarranted. Now you had even more broken shit inside your home. It was beginning to look like a wreck, probably worse than Trevor’s. Your money couldn’t come quick enough. You wondered how much it would be. Hopefully enough to replace a couple of windows.

————

When the sun began to set you gave into your inhibitions and blew the last of your savings on multiple packs of beer. You spent the majority of the evening drinking them on your porch in silent contempt. When night eventually fell, you took the box of beer with you into your car, not wanting to sleep in your trailer that night. A sadistic part deep inside of you wanted to roll the windows up so when daylight came again, you’d overheat and fade away. But you shook off the intrusive thought and relaxed in the backseat, kicking your feet out of the window and chugging beers one after another. It wasn’t very long until your obsessive drinking got you thoroughly wasted, and you still had one more box to go.

“Goddamn..” You slurred, sitting up and sending beer cans all over the floor of your car, “Y'know what? I’m gonna treat you right baby..” You stroked the car seat, proceeding to sloppily climb out the window. You fell onto the dirt outside with an ‘oof’ before climbing right back into the driver’s seat and revving up the engine. The car sped out in reverse, kicking up dirt every which way, and you blasted off down the road, having poorer control over the car than usual. You swerved on and off the road multiple times, smirk spreading across your face. You skidded around a corner, trying to execute multiple stunts while completely shitfaced. You sped along the straight road, suddenly hitting the brakes and rotating the steering wheel like a madman, making the car go into a 180. It was sloppy and the car lurched on it’s side, almost flipping over. It bounced when it made contact with the asphalt again, making you laugh. “You’re so feisty tonight..” You patted the dash, continuing on down the road.

Thankfully the street was devoid of other vehicles and people, or else you surely would have hit them. They were not devoid of noise, however. Your constant donuts and screeching skids made Sandy Shores sound like a drag strip. You raced down Trevor’s street, swerving on and off the road and even taking out someone’s mailbox an accident.

Trevor burst through his front door, pissed-off look on his face. Who the fuck was making all that fucking noise?! He turned to his right, seeing headlights speeding down the street. He stomped out of his yard and into the middle of the street, standing directly in your path with a menacing posture. He didn’t realize it was you driving until your car screeched to a halt a few feet in front of him. You leaned out the window, pointing your bandaged hand at him angrily.

“Trevor ffffffucking Philips,” You slurred, “you..” You opened the car door and stumbled towards him, coming to a swaying stop just a few feet in front of him like your car.

“I can smell the booze on you from here,” He commented.

“And? I can smell you from here too.” You grew defensive, brows drawing together.

“Well, I’m just a little offended I wasn’t invited. But that’s ok since I’m high as a kite right now.. What happened to your hand?” He pointed at it, voice getting softer. Dried blood was still caked all over your fingers.

“I got in a fight with the bitch in the mirror. I guess I won,” You said snarkily, leaning over just a little too much and nearly falling over onto the hood of your car. You slammed into it, quickly grabbing onto it and regaining your balance, all the while Trevor stared with an indescribable look in his eye.

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” Trevor laughed a little, reminiscing about something in his head. During the silence, your eyes grew dark.

“I should have hit you with my car,” You uttered suddenly, making Trevor look back at you with clear hurt in his face. “You’re a nasty man..” You shut your eyes, pushing yourself up off the car and walking back to him. Trevor got upset, he clenched his fist. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sudden touch of your wrapped up hand on his shoulder made him shut up. “That’s why I’d like to thank you for saving my life.” Your tone became lighthearted and genuine in an instant, a complete 180 from your malicious tone.

Trevor released his fists and actually cracked a smile. “Someone can’t handle her alcohol,” He snorted. 

“Bulllllshit,” You spat out, pushing yourself off him. “I could fucking out drive you right now and I’ve been drinking since the fucking sun set.” You jabbed an accusatory finger at him.

Trevor smirked. “Is that so?” He questioned. You glared at him.

“You’re questioning me?” You huffed, puffing out your chest a little.

“You’re damn right I am,” He responded cockily. You held a heated gaze with him for a few moments, deep in your drunken thoughts. You suddenly shot a finger towards the passenger's seat.

“Get in.” You ordered. You didn’t even wait to see his reaction before you hobbled back into the driver’s seat, hastily buckling up. Trevor was next to you in an instant, looking very giddy. “You wanna see some driving, I’ll show you some fuckin’ driving..” You muttered, taking off down the road before Trevor could even properly strap himself in. 

“Ooh-hoo-hoo, I like this side of you. Where was this last night?” He commented, looking over to you endearingly. 

“Under a layer of sleeping pills,” You garbled. You steered the car out of Sandy Shores and onto the road. You drove like an angry old lady, completely hunched over the wheel and squinting out of the windshield in irritation while swerving between lanes. You roughly took the car across the railroad tracks and onto the dirt road beyond it. You smiled evilly and pressed on the gas, rocketing the car into the abundance of desert sand. You spun around the dirt, kicking up dust and weeds every which way. Trevor held onto the door, an equally excited look in his eye.

“Woo! Hahahaha! Yes!” He cheered, nearly being thrown from the window after a particularly aggressive drift from you. 

“You like that?! Just hang on!” You shouted, regaining balance in the car and immediately speeding towards a large dirt mound in the middle of the barren area. 

“Oh fuck yes baby, lets go!” Trevor’s smile was filled with pure adrenaline and it was almost psychotic-looking. The car flew over the dirt mound, both of you cheering and screaming like children while up in the air. It landed roughly, throwing you both to the side. Once touched down, you pulled a 180 and went back for more. Again, the car flew at an angle this time, all the beer cans in the back went absolutely everywhere and made a ruckus when you touched down. The car spun and swerved in circles before you expertly regained control, licking your lips in focus. Trevor was staring at you again, admiring the pure ecstasy and determination that emanated from you in that moment. Even completely shitfaced you had more control over the car than most people did when sober. 

“You are fucking amazing!” He yelled out, passion filling up his eyes once more. You drifted the car and stopped it, looking over to him with a cocky smirk. 

“I fucking told your ass!” You began to cackle, the laughs loosely escaping from your mouth. It didn’t occur to you that he meant amazing in more areas than just driving.

“Oh baby yes you did.” Trevor leaned in, voice getting lower. You blocked his face with your bandaged hand and gently pushed him away, smirking. Your physical attraction towards him flared up and you had half the mind to drunkenly grope him, but you quickly decided against it. You could let out your energy another way.

“I don’t think so cowboy.” Before he could protest, you peeled out again, eliciting a surprised wail out of him. 

You proceeded to show off for 30 more minutes, doing drifts and donuts and driving the car off dirt mounds multiple times. By the time you’d reached your limit, you and Trevor were both sore from laughing and screaming so much. You stopped the car and unbuckled yourself, nearly falling out of the seat when you opened the door. You began to puke while on your knees, the rough handling of the car didn’t mix well with your copious drinking. Trevor got out from the other side, wobbling around to your side while still cackling like a hyena. When you finished your puke you yanked yourself back up and wiped off your mouth with your arm, not wasting a second leaning into your backseat and cracking open another beer can to wash away the taste of vomit.

“God I love you!” He howled, stopping right next to you. “I’ve got to take you for a ride now,” He added. You took a swig and raised a brow at him.

“Sorry, but how can you top this with another car ride?” Your lips curled up in a cocky manner.

“Oh no, not a car ride.. You ever been in a plane, sweetheart?” He looked very satisfied when you gave a surprised reaction.

“You can seriously fly one of those things?” You blurted out.

“I used to be in the Air Force, you could say I picked a few things up..” He purred, getting closer to you.

“No shit..” You stared up at him, still in shock. Trevor got in front of you, placing his hands on either side of you, effectively pinning you against your car. It simultaneously turned you on and freaked you out.

“We can go to my airfield right now. Oh baby, I will give you the time of your life, I promise you that,” He said, tone getting much more frisky.

Your brain suddenly shut down and you pushed him away in a slight panic, the close proximity becoming way too much for you. He stumbled back, a puzzled expression slowly forming on his face. 

“I um.. No.. I can’t do that with you.. Sorry,” You looked away, wishing you could disappear in that moment.

“What, you can’t take a fuckin’ plane ride with me?” He replied, voice dropping.

“It’s not that.” You looked back to him quickly.

“Well what is it then?!” He exclaimed.

“I can’t get close to you!” You yelled back, almost regretting your words.

“What? I don’t understand. What was all this then?!” Trevor was confused and hurt. You felt bad, but mostly you felt shame. You’d allowed the worst part of you to get the better of you again. You chucked your beer across the desert in frustration and clenched your head, shaking around.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m drunk! You challenged me and I was- I don’t know!” You walked away, not wanting to look at him anymore.

“Just say what you really want to say. It was a  _ mistake _ . I was a- I’m a mistake.” Trevor also looked away, voice laced with self-loathing and frustration. You turned back to him, unsure of how to handle the situation. You weren’t exactly in the best state of mind to be delicate with your words and you certainly weren’t expecting Trevor to be so personally affected by your actions. You weren’t aware how much he cared about what you did, you assumed he was just trying to push his personal philosophy on you when you had argued that morning.

“No, it’s not that either!” You growled, irked by the fact that it was so hard to express what you were feeling. Trevor looked back up to you, bewilderment on his face. “You’re- I don’t want to be close to anyone right now. I didn’t know you cared so much, I just thought of this as showing off, nothing more. I’m sorry.” You looked down at the dirt, waiting for Trevor to say something. 

“Nothing more?” He repeated snappily. You nodded. “But you were- We were having such a good time! I saw it!” He frowned. You stayed silent, making Trevor growl. “You said you only wanted to work one job with me and you did. I’m not your boss anymore, so you don’t have to worry about anything ‘unprofessional’ here.” He put finger quotes around the word, you squinted at him in return. He noted your confusion and crossed his arms. “That’s what that was about, wasn’t it? Tell me I’m fucking wrong!” He snapped.

“Well I mean-“

“Choose one! Either be my fucking friend or keep working for me.” Trevor’s ultimatum made your eyes widen. Anger bubbled up within you again, alcohol making it extra tough to keep a leash on.

“Trevor that’s not fair!” You scowled.

“Well fucking choose one before I- Arrrghh!” Trevor lunged at you as if he was going to strangle you but he stopped well before ever putting his hands on you. Nonetheless, the action made you shrink back. He proceeded to spin around and walk in small circles again, pumping his fists angrily until he managed to calm down a little more. He slowly turned to you, letting out a deep breath. “The way I see it, you don’t have any excuse. Either keep working for me and have a reason to be a cold bitch or be my friend and be free.” His voice was quieter, leaving you in shock. You couldn’t fucking believe him. 

“Don’t fucking do this to me! I don’t have to do either!” You crossed your arms.

“We are so disastrously good together! There’s no possible outcome where we aren’t associated with each other, you just have to choose how you want to act!” Trevor’s words were sharp and clear. You turned around again, putting your face in your hands. 

Furrowing your brow, you thought his words over as best you could. You were willing to accept that he was right in your intoxicated headspace. It was true. You both clashed together in the weirdest of ways. Plus you only lived a few fucking houses away, so avoiding him was impossible. You didn’t have enough money to move. So ultimately, what it came down to was choosing between what you wanted. 

Did you want to accept fate and go back into doing what you truly loved or did you want a friend, something you hadn’t had in a long time?

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind on that one. You turned back to Trevor, a stone cold look on your face. “I’ll work for you.” 

Trevor’s demeanor visibly dropped. “So you’d really rather go back to the life you’ve been avoiding like the plague than be friends with me?” He spoke softly.

“I said what I said,” You replied.

“... Well- Fine! At least you’re not going to be fucking lying to yourself anymore!”

“I guess I’m not.”

Trevor huffed, pumping his fists in frustration once again. “You- Well fine! Take me back home! I’ll be in touch with you about any other jobs from now on!” Without further conversation, you and Trevor got back into your car and returned to Sandy Shores. The ride was short and silent. You still swerved around the road, but all the previous excitement and joy was taken out of your driving. Trevor was clearly upset but also somehow fine at the same time. He was more confused than anything. He’d gotten what he wanted didn’t he? You were going to work for him now and you’d stop being a hypocrite. Why did he still feel so wrong?

You pulled up in front of his trailer and he exited the car. He walked around to your window and leaned down. “I…”

“I’ll see you later, T.” You sped off and left him there, confused and irritated. He looked around and began pacing before he kicked his mailbox and let out a shout. 

You sloppily parked your car in your yard and shut the engine off. Your grip on the wheel weakened and you stared glumly at your lap. You weren’t even entirely sure why you made the decision that you did. Deep down, you knew Trevor was implying more than just friendship. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that. Though you didn’t feel much romantic attraction for him now, who was to say your physical attraction wouldn’t evolve the more you hung around him? It’d certainly happened to you before. There was no denying you and Trevor had many things in common. It scared you to wonder if you’d be able to say no to any feelings that would arise had you stayed friends. Even though it meant getting back into the life you swore you were going to leave behind, somehow being a driver again was less scary. You already knew all the ins and outs of being a good getaway. People were a different story. Too many times you thought you knew someone enough to be vulnerable around them only for them to use that to their advantage and shift the playing field, leaving you completely helpless. You didn’t want to stick around Trevor only to find out he was the same way. Being a driver was the right choice.

You slithered over your seat between the middle console into the back, laying down with a sigh. You kicked your feet out of the window and cracked open another beer can. Why be troubled? You loved driving, didn’t you? 

Why did a twinge of regret still sit upon your chest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a sucker for angst.. And this certaibky is not going to b the last of the angst in this story. It's just the tip of the ice cube. Sorry this one took a wee bit longer to post, the chapter I just finished is fucken long. As always, hope you enjoy, happy spooky October.


	6. Start Off With A Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're now Trevor's newest employee and ya got money. While out spending it, your brain hatches a new lil plan. Calls are made and Trevor really likes you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow managed to finish the lastest chapter really fucken fast?? So? Here u go?

“Rise and fucking shine!” Trevor banged on your door. The loud noise of beer cans falling everywhere made him spin around. You were in the backseat of your car looking totally disheveled and hungover. “Jeez, you slept in there?” He got closer, seeing you were covered in beer cans like a blanket. You mumbled something incoherent in response. “Truly a woman after my own heart..” He sighed. He chucked an orange envelope at you, you fumbled with it before squinting at it. “Your money,” He explained.

There were thick wads inside the envelope, you could feel them. It made your heart speed. “...Thanks..” You croaked, voice hoarse from waking up. 

“... You know, just because you’re cold to me doesn’t mean I’m gonna be cold to you,” Trevor eventually said. You shrugged casually.

“I figured.”

“Eeexcelent! Welcome to Trevor Philips Industries! Always remember, the sexy secretary position is still open.” He spoke smoothly. You rolled your eyes. 

“Very warm welcome,” You commented sarcastically.

“Ooh, I’m so excited! I can call you up anytime I want now that I’m your boss! Are you ready for the late night gossip? We can talk about cute boys.” He winked.

“Trevor…” You said, a certain edge in your voice.

“Ugh, you’re no fun. Whatever, go spend that money and buy some..” He took a brief look at your trailer, “.. New windows. By the way, what’s your name?” He turned back to you. It was clear the question caught you off guard by the way Trevor quickly put his hands up in innocence. “For professional reasons! If you’re gonna work for me, I need your name.”

You were silent for a while before gaining the courage to speak up. “(y/n).” You stated.

“Last name?” He prodded onwards.

You let out a sigh. “It’s.. (l/n).”

“And your middle name?” Trevor leaned in with a shit-eating grin.

“Come on, is that really necessary?” You snapped back, crossing your arms.

“Fine fine whatever, I just wanted to see if you had a cute middle name.. Well, (y/n), we’ll be in touch.” Trevor made a point of dragging out your name in a sing-song voice before triumphantly walking off. You face-palmed, knowing he would be the one person to make you regret giving out your name somehow. 

Names aside, you focused on more pressing matters at hand. The thick envelope in your hands. You slowly opened it up, fishing out two thick wads of cash. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull at the sight. It’d been so long since you’d seen money, it almost made you tear up if it weren’t for the fact that you were very dehydrated. You counted the bills, smiling each time the number got bigger. It all totaled to $15,000 dollars, not too shabby at all. You’d be able to do so much with that money. Like buy actual food!

As soon as you’d thought about it, you were set into motion. You placed the money in the front seat, kicking open the back door and brushing all the beer cans onto the ground outside, their metal clanking loudly as they piled on the dirt. In Sandy Shores, not too many residents cared about littering. You got into the driver’s seat and pulled out of your yard, blasting off to the nearest diner.

\--

Afternoon fell, you’d been out all day buying tools and repair materials for your trailer. It was nothing big enough to attract suspicion towards you, but enough for you to finally get to work on your home. As you drove back along the freeway, sirens erupted behind you. Your hands instinctively gripped the steering wheel and your eyes darted towards the rearview mirror, fearing the worst. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw the police were chasing another vehicle who was rocketing down the freeway. As the perp and cops flew past your car, you looked down to the envelope filled with the illegal money sitting out in plain sight. If only those cops knew.. You smirked at the amusing thought. Well, it’s not like they’d be able to open it anyway. You could just say it was your mail, and they aren’t allowed to search through mail without a warrant.

Your eyes widened. The cops couldn’t search through mail without a warrant. You could hide a lot of money in some fake packages. 

The gears in your brain began to spin rapidly. If you could somehow get your hands on an old mail truck then.. The possibilities open to you were suddenly overwhelming and very exciting.

Unconsciously you sped up, eager to share your idea with Trevor. Screw it, if you were getting back into the life, you’d start it off with a bang. After many years of only being the driver with very little to offer aside from escape, you were thrilled to try and bring your own plan to the table. You were sure with the connections Trevor had, planning and pulling off what you had in mind would be easy.

Your car screeched into Sandy Shores and you didn’t even bother to unpack your groceries when you stopped in your yard. Instead you got out and bolted to Trevor’s trailer, hoping he would be home. 

"Trevor! Hey!" You knocked loudly on his door. His head popped out of his doorway and he looked pleasantly surprised to see you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment when he walked out without a shirt on, allowing you to see him in all his glory. He had a giant tattoo below his ribcage that simply said "FUCK COPS" and a little smiley face on his right hip. His chest was large with a healthy amount of hair, and you couldn't help but notice he also had his fair share of scars like you did. It was certainly a treat to see.

"Well well, what brings you here?" He raised a brow.

"U-Um," your eyes flitted away from him in an attempt to look normal. "I- Something occurred to me when I was driving home today," You spoke, still unable to form full sentences.

"Having second thoughts about me?" His tone came out more excited than suggestive even though he tried to keep his cool.

"No. Let's rob a bank." You looked him in the eye, enthusiasm for your plan overpowering your lust. Trevor's eyes widened and a malicious grin formed on his face.

"You're just raring to go! Why do you need to rob a bank? Not satisfied with your money?" He crossed his arms.

"I don't… Really have a reason. It's just something I've wanted to do for a long time. Now that I'm working for you, I thought 'fuck it! Why not!'. You know how police can't search mail without a warrant? I was thinking we could scrounge up an old mail truck and some uniforms and you know.." You did a wiggly gesture with your hands, "Take it from there." You looked to Trevor for a reaction and were slightly shocked to see his eyes filled with.. Delight? Adoration? 

The look only lasted a brief moment before he cleared his throat, looking around the room in thought. "Sweetheart, it's a good start, but do you have anything else?"

"Well I only just came up with it an hour ago. I thought we could recruit your friends for help. There was a town I visited once just south of the Los Santos airport, El Sereno. I think it would work really well."

"El Sereno? That small place?"

"It's right on the border of Manila Beach which is home to some of San Andreas' most expensive beach houses. The banks are bound to be loaded with how much the residents spend," You explained.

"I love the mail plan, but it's not exactly the best vehicle to rob a bank with." Trevor pointed out. You gained a devilish glint in your eye.

"That's why El Sereno works perfectly. The west part of the city is all residential while the east is all industrial, completely separate worlds. I've seen how the police work there, it's not exactly a huge force. We can draw all the officers on one side of the city while we rob the bank on the other side. I can wait with the mail truck and you guys can meet up with me. We ditch the bank robbing car, put all the money into some fake packages, then split completely undetected."

"Damn it, I love the way you think.." Trevor turned around, deep in thought. Your eyes trailed up and down his broad back momentarily until he spun around once more, commanding your full attention. "It doesn't take much to convince me! I'm in! I'll call Michael and Franklin, Lester too."

"Lester?" You tilted your head.

"He's our behind the scenes guy, you know, stereotypical creepy fat dude who stays inside on the computer all day? He's real good with all the technical stuff about scores," Trevor said. You couldn't help but crack a smile. You knew Trevor would have some good connections! 

"Alright! Am I gonna meet him?"

"Errr no. He doesn't exactly go outside unless he has to, but he will probably call you. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he already had your number," Trevor scoffed. The idea unsettled you, but as long as this Lester guy was on your side, you trusted him. 

"Well, all the help we can get will be great. We can polish this plan up in no time."

"What bank were you thinking exactly?" Trevor sat on his couch, eyeing you down. You could feel heat rise to your cheeks, but not enough for you to lose your composure.

"There's only 5 banks in the city, one of them is on the easternmost border. It would be easy to hit it and run before any perimeters get set up."

"Think though, if anything we'll be closest to the risk because that's where all the cops will flock to first. No, I suggest somewhere near the city limits but not too close, something that will give us enough time to outrun and confuse any heat before completely losing them," Trevor bargained. "Do you have a map of the place?" He asked slowly.

"I can pull one up easy enough." You absentmindedly sat next to him while searching up a map of El Sereno on your phone. Trevor discreetly scooted closer while you were distracted. "Here, look," You flipped your phone screen and the two of you leaned in to get a better look. Trevor watched your finger elegantly trace down the borders and streets where you wanted to operate on. With you so close, he was having trouble focusing.

"Well I don't understand, look at that," Trevor pointed at a multicoloured line running through various streets, "what the hell is that?"

You scoffed, "Trevor that's the railway lines and bus schedules," You explained. Trevor's confusion from digital map symbols was a little endearing, though you hated to say it. "Just focus here. This is the main split from industrial to residential along these office buildings." Your hand glided across the screen, Trevor watched it in wonder. He wanted to reach out and grab it so bad. "Are you paying attention?" You swiped up the screen, "Somewhere around here is where our distraction could be positioned. Something to cause a scene, you know?"

Trevor stared blankly, only somewhat retaining the information. He was much more interested in the close proximity between you two. How could someone simultaneously smell like booze and flowers? Whatever the explanation, it made you all the more magnetizing.

The hours went on of you and Trevor wandering around the trailer and taping things up every which way, things you thought would help. Maps, photos, news snippets. Your headspace was unbearable. Each time you and him brushed shoulders or felt the body heat coming from each other, it was too much. The bad side of your brain wanted to do some very naughty things to him, but instead you did the best thing you knew how to: restrained yourself. His playful touches were met with cold stares and unenthusiastic attitudes. You hated being that way, but it was what must be done to get the heist planned. You kept trying to remind yourself that Trevor was your boss, not your friend, despite how playful and relaxed he was.

Trevor was on a conference call in the other room with Michael, Franklin, and Lester. The first two seemed hesitant to pull a score for no real reason, especially when there was a risk of such a low take, but then Lester added something to the table which tided everyone over. He proposed that since El Sereno only had five banks, he could theoretically mess with their security systems, nothing huge, but enough to make owners uncomfortable. If it went right, they would be baited into moving their money just for one fateful afternoon into a single bank where Lester hadn't tampered with anything while they temporarily shut down their other security systems for repairs. That's when everyone would strike, when they had all their cards in one place. It was risky since things had to be executed just right, but Lester had confidence in his skills. He appeared to know just the right circumstances that would cause enough worry but not draw too much suspicion at the same time.

You listened to the last of the conversation in anticipation, hoping everyone would agree to help.

"... Trust me, security networks for banks are not as solid as they appear. Things can crash and go offline pretty easily and no one really bats an eye," Lester said.

"You heard the man! We got technology on our side!" Trevor exclaimed.

"I dunno man, we just hit the seaport not that long ago.." Franklin said hesitantly.

"Kid's right, we might be moving too soon," added Michael.

"Well with the time it's gonna take for us to plan this thing, we'll be in the clear by the time it's ready to roll out. Come on, where's your guys' sense of excitement?! Love for the job?!" You heard Trevor scold.

"Unlike you, Trevor, we're not all deranged trigger happy lunatics ready to rob a place at the drop of a dime. I've still got things to worry about at home," Michael argued.

"Mikey Mikey Mikey, always neck deep in your bullshit. Does anything ever change? You used to love this stuff!  _ Live  _ for it! I know you still do." Trevor frowned. You rolled your eyes. Oh boy, they were fighting again.

"You know what, if Lester is on board, then I am too. I trust him." Franklin suddenly interjected as if to stop the impending argument. You pumped your fist silently. 

"Ye-hes!! My homie Franklin! I knew I could on count on you!" Trevor said.

"Yeah whatever man.. (y/n)'s plan sounds pretty solid and I ain't gonna pass up the chance for extra paper," Franklin replied unenthusiastically.

"Come on Michael, it's four against one. Don't be a pussy!" Trevor pressured. The line was silent for a while.

Michael finally spoke up, "Alright, fine.  _ Only _ because Lester is vouching for it."

"Hahah! Yes!" Trevor cheered. You silently cheered with him in the other room. Finally, it was your chance to shine. Back home, none of your running buddies never really let you make plans, they mostly had you situated on driving. You felt you'd been in the business long enough by that point to have picked up at least a few tactics. Nowhere near the level of Michael or Trevor, but it was something. 

"Gentlemen, we'll keep in touch," Lester spoke one last time before ending the conference call. You saw Trevor walk out, arms outstretched with a big smile on his face. 

"Looks like we're doin' this!" He said. 

"Fantastic," you replied, still hesitant to show your true thrill. Your eyes widened suddenly. "Shit! I've been here so long, I forgot I had food in my car! That can  _ not  _ be good news with how hot it is. I have to go. I'll come by another time if I think of anything new." You stood up, rushing to the door. Trevor almost looked sad to see you go.

"Yeah, I'll call with any updates too.." He spoke, voice not as excited anymore. Sensing his disappointment, you paused. You couldn't leave so ungratefully. You'd always made a point to respect people for helping you, even if you didn't like them that much. Not that you didn't like Trevor, but that was a whole can of worms you didn't want to open.

"Thanks, Trevor," you turned around and faced him, "This couldn't be real without you... And.. Everyone else," You added the last bit haphazardly.

He seemed unsure of how to handle the genuine attitude. He just nodded awkwardly, shrugging. "Yeah, I mean.. Hey, you work for me, big things are bound to happen. I knew you had it in ya," He replied. You shot him a brief smile before exiting the trailer. 

His heart thudded against his ribs. He'd never met a more fascinating woman, and although he thought that a lot, this time felt like the real deal. You were a thrillseeker, ballsy, and definitely skilled. You didn't need a reason to go out into the world and cause chaos, you just did it because you felt like it.. At least that's how he saw you.

His mind flashed back to the night before when he gave you the ultimatum. It was just too bad.. No one ever wanted to be close to mean old Trevor unless he forced them to be. He shouldn't have been surprised it would be the same deal with you.

Still, Trevor wanted to know all about you. You always had such a big wall up, but it was the little leaks that intrigued him the most. In fact, it was getting to the point where it was hard to see you leave. He'd stay with you all day if he could, just to be in your company. He hadn't felt that way since he met Michael, and it was like reliving some of the past around you. He took out his phone and dialed a number.

Trevor waited as the line rang, getting a little impatient.

"Hey Trevor! What's going on?" Ron answered.

"Listen, Ron, I need you to do a little research about our newest employee.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee another heist. I'm gonna be messing with the map in this story a LOT. So please assume Los Santos and all that isn't an island, but it's actually connected to the mainland and San Andreas is almost pretty much the same layout as real Cali.  
> I was feeling somewhat insecure recently that my writing of Trevor is too out of character (this is me speaking 4 chapters ahead) but I realized that he's a fictional character and everyone is allowed to interpret him differently and thats ok. My version of him in this story is a lil softer, a lil more gentle, and he has a lot going on in that head of his. Anyhow, hope y'all enjoyed, thanks for reading as always.


	7. Burnt Weenies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heist is near ready, and along the way you find yourself growing closer to Trevor. Close enough to open up some. But Trevor finds something out about you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly scenario. I got it inspired by Ron's little radio show where he talks about hating memory foam mattresses and also partly because I've seen some weird shit happen in trailer parks.

A little over a week had passed. You and the gang were deep into planning. Lester was testing the security systems, seeing what would work and what wouldn't. You and Michael had scouted around El Sereno and the specific bank that was chosen for the heist a few times already, planning routes and getting to know the turf. Franklin was in charge of sourcing vehicles again and making fake packages for the mail truck. Trevor was covering weapons and all the gear needed for the actual robbery. You'd already stolen your disguise, it wasn't very tough. You just followed a postal service worker home and paid them off to buy the uniform and keep quiet. It put a dent in your funds, admittedly, but it was a worthwhile investment because once that bank was robbed, you'd be rolling in green.

The plan was much more fleshed out thanks to the additions from everyone in the group. Trevor would do what he did best and cause a big distraction across town while Michael, Franklin, and Chef hit the bank, which would have all the money from other banks temporarily stored in it thanks to Lester. You'd gotten to talk with the mysterious Lester a few more times thanks to the circumstances, and you were very impressed. He had a skillset that you would have killed to have on your team back when you were living up north. It was seriously like something out of a movie. He was an awkward and unpleasant man at times, but he made up for it with his genius. 

The sound of power drills was all you could hear. That particular afternoon, you decided to try working on replacing your windows. Everything in your house was slowly but surely returning to normal. You were no expert at home repair, but with some internet tutorials you could get by. 

"Fuck!" You cursed, stopping the drill in frustration. The only thing you'd neglected to pay attention to was the sizes. You assumed every window was the same size, for fuck's sake! Whose idea was it to make trailer windows just a few inches off?!

You angrily stepped down the stool you were on, tempted to throw the drill across your brown yard. Fuck it, you'd just have to go without good windows for a while. You were too lazy to deal with it.

"Helloooo?!" You heard Trevor call from around the front. You jogged over, excited to hear if he had any news about the heist. When he saw you, he crossed his arms. "Jesus, do you know how to answer a fuckin' phone?" He frowned.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I've been trying to replace my damn.. Well, everything. I didn't hear my phone.." You said, holding up the drill. Trevor raised a brow.

"Why don't you just hire someone? You know you can afford it now," He pointed out.

"Well- I-.... Huh, fuck I guess I can.. I'm not used to having money." You rubbed your neck. Trevor shook his head playfully.

"See, that's what living a life away from crime for so long has gotten you," He teased.

"You think I'd be living here if I followed the law?" You bit your tongue, quickly looking down in thought, "Well actually, the answer is yes. I guess this is what being a goody-two shoes has gotten me. A trailer dump in the middle of fuckoff nowhere surrounded by petri dish people," You muttered, more to yourself than Trevor. Despite being a hardass, you'd grown much more comfortable with him while planning the heist.

"Well now, don't be so quick to judge! These people are true Americans, loud and proud! Everything out here is as raw as it gets."

"That's nothing to be proud of, Trevor," You rebuked. "Anyway, what were you calling about?" You shook your hand, changing the subject.

"Lester got in touch, he said that he found the 'perfect exploit' in the system or whatever. Basically he's ready to execute the plan as soon as everyone else is." Trevor said. Your eyes widened. That was great news! You still couldn't believe you were so close to pulling this off, it was somewhat a twisted dream come true to plan and carry out your own bank robbery.

"Did he say what he was going to do?" You tilted your head.

"I don't know, it was a bunch of technical jargon I didn't understand. Something about networks and glitches and things." Trevor shrugged. 

"So how long do you think it'll be before we can get the show on the road?"

"Can't exactly say.. Franklin has most of the getaway cars under wraps, but he said finding a mail truck without explicitly stealing one is giving him trouble," He replied.

"Well tell him it's worth it. I want this getaway to be as smooth as possible, and it's gonna be worth it in the long run when police don't have their eyes peeled for any recently stolen mail trucks.. I'll call him. I know some good sites for buying decommissioned cars, hell, I might even be able to find an auction.." You thought aloud. 

"Auction, eh? You've had experience with this stuff?" Trevor asked. You noted the question seemed out of place, awkward almost. Trevor was trying to learn more about you.

It wouldn't hurt to humor him. "You could say that. Me and my old running buddies tried buying a decommissioned police car hoping we could disguise ourselves during a robbery. It didn't really work." The old memory made you laugh a little.

"You talk about these running buddies of yours fondly, but I don't think I ever caught their names," He casually leaned against the fence that surrounded your yard, looking interested in what you had to say.

"Umm.. Well.." You were hesitant to answer. Bringing them up for extended periods of time made you uncomfortable. "Well, there were three of them, kind of like you, Michael, and Franklin except we didn't really have a Lester. I wish we did, it would have made things easier." You paused for a few moments, trying to find the guts to say their names again.

"Well?" Trevor spun his hand around, urging you on. A few more moments of silence ensued.

"Layne, John, and Sierra. Their names were Layne, John, and Sierra." You finally managed to spit out.

"Were?" Trevor asked. Your expression quickly darkened and he remembered your scars. They were clearly your friends in the accident. He knew what it was like to lose a friend more than anyone. "Right. Sorry." He added softly, dropping the subject. You were surprised at how gentle he sounded in that moment, you had to look up at him to make sure it was still Trevor you were talking to. You only ever heard him talk with that familiar edge in his voice, you didn't even know he could be sensitive. You were almost tempted to spill your guts to him because it'd been so long since anyone would listen to you. Almost.

You inhaled deeply, spinning around and clapping your hands together. "Well! I'll be sure to call Franklin then. Thanks for stopping by, T," You said awkwardly, quickly changing your demeanor to avoid your dark feelings.

"Hey, even though I'm your boss, you know you can tell me anything," Trevor said. "I-If you want to, of course. I'm a surprisingly good listener." He added quickly.

You slowly turned around, a mixed expression on your face. "I…" You looked at him. He was being genuine. Did you have this man all wrong? Was it possible he was one of the "good ones" that people liked to talk about all the time? ".. Thank you," Was all you could say. But it was not a professional "yeah sure whatever" kind of thank you, it was true heartfelt gratefulness. You weren't sure if you'd ever have the guts to take him up on it, but the fact that he offered meant a lot. 

Trevor sent you a quick smile before pushing himself off your fence and walking off without a word, presumably back to his trailer. You were left standing in your yard, a tight feeling in your chest. In all honesty, you weren't expecting Trevor to care, least of all be the caring type. The more you hung around him, the more you were slowly beginning to realize that he was a very genuine person. Rarely did he mask what he was truly thinking and you could tell that he would rather die than be disloyal to those he cared about. Truly, you had never met anyone quite like him. 

The feeling in your chest grew worse. He was the first person to show you genuine attention in a long time, of course it wouldn't be long until you formed a silly childish crush. Damn it. That was exactly what you were avoiding.

You shook your head, frowning. But Trevor wasn't like certain people in your past. If he had ulterior motives you would know because he wouldn't hide them in the first place, for God's sake. It was all too confusing to think about. You couldn't just throw your caution out of the window, it was way too deep-rooted to do that. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to be just a little more open around Trevor. Just a little. He'd been nothing but helpful for the past week, after all.

Gradually, you were able to move from your position and go back inside your windowless house, figuring you'd take the rest of the afternoon to help Franklin find a mail truck.

\--

Another full day went by mixed with visiting online auctions with Franklin and home repair. Franklin was surprisingly good with bidding and it wasn't long until you had both secured a decommissioned mail truck. It wasn't very far out of Los Santos, Franklin agreed to go pick it up and bring it back to Trevor's hangar. All of the setups for the heist were complete. You wasted no time that evening making a conference call to let everyone know. Lester informed that his schemes would take a few days and he would be monitoring the communication between banks, waiting for the golden opportunity. Until then, everyone was on their toes, ready to strike.

You relaxed on your old stained couch with a big plate of food. Everything was looking up. Your trailer was cleaner, the sink actually worked, you could get hot water again, and you could finally eat whenever you got hungry. Your mind reluctantly wandered to Trevor. You had to admit, you probably wouldn't be in a better situation if it wasn't for him. He got you the work you needed, even if it was something you were trying to avoid. For once, he didn't make you feel bad about the life you had chosen, unlike certain people you used to know. He constantly encouraged you and bathed you in raw attention, you didn't show that it got to you, but it did. You were now in the stages where you were finding yourself thinking about him more often. God you hated this. At least you had an excuse not to pursue, right? He was your boss, and you had always made a vow never to get hooked up with your business partners. 

Speak of the devil, your phone began to buzz next to you. You snatched it up as soon as you saw Trevor's name on the screen.

"Yo," You answered.

"Want some of my sausage?" He said in a low and flirtatious tone. The sudden statement caught you off guard, heat rose to your face. You struggled to maintain composure.

"Trevor, I told you not to booty call me." You frowned.

"No I'm serious, get your ass out here. Ron got his hands on some memory foam mattresses and he's burning them out in the street. Figured we could roast some weenies," His voice got more childlike.

"Mattresses…?" You squinted.

"Come out and see." He hung up, leaving you in suspense. Of course you set your food to the side and wandered outside. Sure enough, there was a plume of smoke coming from the direction of Trevor's trailer. You jogged down the street and were taken aback at the sight.

Mattresses were stacked on each other and burning in the middle of the road, Trevor was seated nearby in a shitty lawn chair roasting a sausage over it, box of beer next to him. When he spied you walking over, his face lightened. "Gotta love rural America! I bet they don't have this in Los Santos!" He called out. You stopped nearby, confused look still plastered on your face.

"I'm sure there's at least 50 dumpsters on fire in LS as we speak.." You commented, eyes still locked with the burning pile of memory foam. The flames were surprisingly huge and deep orange, licking the sky and shooting black smoke everywhere.

"A dumpster fire is nothing compared to four mattresses stacked on top of each other. Weenie?" Trevor held out a skewer with a sausage on it. You hesitantly took it, still not entirely sure what the hell was going on.

"T-Trevor be careful! You don't know what could be in those mattress vapors!" Ron, Trevor's friend, ran over. You hadn't talked to him much, he eyed you down constantly with a look like a person cautiously watching a bear. All you knew about him was that he was a paranoid bastard who enjoyed talking on the community radio from time to time and that he was Trevor's devoted right hand man. 

"Fuck off Ron! Go get me some marshmallows! The big ones, not the shitty little ones!" Trevor shooed the man away and immediately Ron ran down the street.

"Okay boss!" Ron yelled. When he was out of view, Trevor patted the empty lawn chair next to him. 

"I saved a seat for you." He smiled. Your heart sped ever so slightly. This was an absolutely ridiculous scenario. But what the hell? You said you'd try being a little more open. It wasn't everyday that you got to roast food over burning mattresses. You took a seat and this thrilled Trevor, but he didn't show it.

"Ok I have to ask. Why the hell is Ron burning mattresses?" You pointed out the elephant in the room.

"I dunno. He hates the things, it's another stupid conspiracy with him. Whatever it is, they make a goooood fire. I just saw the opportunity for some quality time with my favourite driver." He shot you a warm look and you tried your best not to smile, but you couldn't help it. It was all just too silly. 

You rotated your sausage, trying to get an even char on the surface. "Trevor your sausage is burning." You pointed out.

"My sausage is always burning for you," He replied quickly.

"No- it's actually on fire." You pointed at the weenie, which was completely black at that point.

"Oh!" Trevor pulled it away and blew it out rapidly, frowning slightly. He shrugged and took a bite of the burnt mess. "I'm not picky," He added. You laughed at the scene, covering your face with your palm. 

"God, what the fuck is going on.." You mumbled to yourself, wiping the tears from your eyes. Eventually your own sausage was roasted to the point of perfection. You took it back and savoured it, it was rather juicy and delicious. You didn't even think about the implications of eating a phallic object in front of Trevor, but you should have.

"Want to see me deepthroat this? Cause I can do it," He challenged, making you snort again. Tonight it seemed like he loved making you laugh. 

"No thanks, T," You chortled, taking another bite from yours. 

"Well what about you? Show me what you got, chica." He smirked, raising his brows. You rolled your eyes, eating some more.

"In your dreams."

"In my dreams indeed.." He sighed, reaching over his chair for another sausage and a beer. He held the bottle out to you and you graciously accepted, twisting the cap off and taking a drink. It was slightly warm, but that was okay. It was still refreshing anyway. 

You and Trevor sat in a comfortable silence despite the absurd scene. Somehow he made it feel normal to roast food over burning mattresses. Trevor always made the weirdest things feel right and normal. He burnt most of his food, as his attention was directed to you most of the time. You both spoke casually, somehow it was easier than you expected to keep up a conversation with Trevor. He had a lot to say about many different things. He was eager to share stories and listen to yours intently. It wasn't long before the flames began to dwindle, their source becoming a charred mess of ashes. Ron showed back up just in time with marshmallows. You swapped out the meat for the soft treats, holding them over the weakening fire. It was just enough to toast them. 

"So…" Trevor started, staring into the glowing embers, "I have to ask.. How'd you become such a good driver?"

You searched your head for a decent answer. How much should you let him know? You'd answered every question like that, with a slight filter. "I got into rally driving," You replied simply, turning your marshmallow. 

"So you were a rally driver??" Trevor leaned in curiously.

"Yeah.. Well.. They weren't exactly legal rally races.. So I'm not really an official racer," You admitted.

"Tell me more." Trevor placed a hand on his chin.

You sighed, going silent for a few moments. It wouldn't hurt to let him know just a bit more, you supposed. "My parents didn't really like the idea of me getting into the scene of racing and cars and stuff. They wouldn't pay for legitimate courses, so I eventually began hanging around the street scene. I was lucky to find a good mentor there. She showed me a lot of the ropes. I got so obsessed I began skipping school to go race and practice and that's also how I eventually met my running buddies. I beat them in a race and they were impressed," You recalled fondly. You quickly blushed, pulling your marshmallow from the fire. You said more than you needed to. You slowly looked over to Trevor and he was staring at you, completely enamoured. "Trevor." You pointed at his marshmallow. It was completely black and on fire.

"Fuck!" He yanked it away, blowing on it repeatedly and waving it around. It made you chuckle. Curse him for being so endearing. 

He ate the burnt marshmallow, not even batting an eye at the horrid taste. "You know, you still haven't told me where you're from. I mean, I know it's San Andreas, but where?" He prodded onwards, leaning in again. You put another marshmallow on your skewer and dipped it into the fire, staring deeply at the flames. You didn't want anyone to know where you were from. The point of moving was to leave that place behind, try and start a new life. But you felt so comfortable with Trevor. What was the worst he could do with the information? He'd already told you so much about himself already. 

"Redwood. It's sort of near the northern border," You finally replied. It felt simultaneously great but terrifying to finally confide in someone. 

"Redwood? I can't say I've heard of it.." Trevor thought aloud.

It made you laugh lightly. "Well, no one really cares about Northern San Andreas so I don't blame you. Most of the focus is on Los Santos. For good reason too, not very much happens up there. Even the desert is more lively," you gestured to the pile of ashes before you, "as you can see," You said. 

"Redwood… Hm," Trevor repeated the name again, speaking quietly to himself. 

You and Trevor continued to talk until the mattresses were nothing more than noxious black smoke (which was thankfully downwind of you) and charred wooden frames. The sun had set a long while ago, yet neither you nor Trevor wanted to get up from the pile of burnt crap on the asphalt. It was you who took the first step away because all of the sudden, being in Trevor's presence felt too warm; too good. In just a few short hours, he'd grown on you exponentially. 

You stood from your chair after a bit of silence between conversations, dusting yourself off. "Well, T. It's been nice.. And weird. This isn't how I expected to spend my night, but it wasn't bad. Thanks for the invitation," You nodded politely, putting up your professional front once again. Trevor frowned a little. 

"You're leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah, gonna go home, probably spend my time looking at more maps of El Sereno then go to bed," You said.

"You know you can do all of that at my place, cut out the unnecessary trip back.." Trevor eyed you suggestively, putting a hand on his chin. He was so persistent. You looked at the ground, hating to admit that it was tempting. But you couldn't.

"Sorry, Trev. Not tonight."

"Does that mean you're open to it??" He asked quickly. Your pause was noticeable, but you ended up shaking your head again.

"No, sorry. Goodnight." You turned and walked away. Trevor watched you go with a smile. "Trev", huh? That was the first time you used your own nickname with him. He'd get you to open up soon enough. 

You slowly walked home, a familiar tight feeling in your chest. That was the danger of closing yourself off from people, you supposed. You got attracted to the first sucker who showed you any genuine attention. That was okay. You promised yourself you wouldn't let your silly infatuation interfere with anything, especially not the heist. It was too important to you. But you'd be lying if you kept telling yourself it didn't feel damn good to be able to talk with someone so like-minded after so long, even if he was a little crazy and unpredictable. 

\--

"Hey boss, I found a lot of articles and an obituary matching (y/n). I sent them over to you, if I find anything else I'll let you know," Ron spoke on the phone to Trevor, who was sitting idly in his trailer.

"Nicely done Ron. Call you later." Trevor hung up, immediately opening the links Ron sent him. An obituary..?? 

He read through old local news articles from Redwood, SA. Most of them were more than half a decade old. His stomach dropped the more he took in.

_ "Tragedy strikes in Redwood's local mountain roads as three adults were found dead after driving off the side of the cliff while running away from police. Sources say there were four people in the car, but the body of the driver, (y/n) (l/n) has yet to be found. She is presumed dead at this time, however. The bodies of Layne Ramsey (32), John Wilkins (27), and Sierra Fletcher (29) were identified in the remnants of the car, presumably dead upon impact. The four had just robbed Redwood Bank and were escaping police when the accident occured. Their families are refusing any further questions from the news at this time…" _

The names matched the ones you told Trevor for your partners. He scrolled further and saw a photo of the wrecked car, brows furrowing. It was burnt and crumpled up like a piece of paper, windows totally shattered and fucked up. How in the hell did you live through that? If he hadn't heard your tell your story personally, he would have doubted this was the right article. He clicked on the obituary next, heart sinking lower and lower. A photo of you looking a little younger was there along with your name from Redwood, SA just like the article.

_ "(y/n) (l/n) was killed Wednesday, February 22, 2006 in a car accident.." _

__ He read further through all the hobbies and interests that were written (many were focused around automobiles and racing), trying to see who you were survived by, if anyone. Sure enough, he found it:  _ "... she is survived by her mother and father, and little sister Jeanie.." _

Trevor's blood began to boil the more he thought about it. Did they have any idea you were alive? Did your friends know you were alive? Or did you abandon them just like what had been done to him?

It seemed he had another resurrected corpse on his hands. Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers along his "R.I.P. Michael" tattoo. What started as an innocent attempt to learn more about you had turned into something personal to him. He couldn't believe he was dealing with another liar like Michael. Suddenly, against all rational thought, his heart was set. He wasn't going to let you get away with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm i dont actually know if its healthy to eat mattress-roasted hotdogs, but we'll say it's fine for the sake of fiction. Thanks for reading!


	8. Special Delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T confronts you just as you hear the robbery is ready to go. On the day of, you and Michael share an unexpected bond and T gets jealous. The bank is robbed, and you and T have to escape the city together with all the money...

You glumly stared at your phone. Two days had gone by, Trevor seemingly dropped off the radar. Despite living so close, you hadn't seen nor heard from him, which was worrying considering the heist was coming up like a speeding train. You could only hope he didn't wander off into the middle of the desert alone on another one of his drug-fueled hazes. More than that, it kind of.. Sucked not hearing from him. It was a weird thing to finally admit to yourself. After having such a great time only a few nights ago, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd done something wrong. 

Maybe it was for the better. He was your boss, and that was that. These were the types of boundaries you needed to get used to anyway. There was no use getting sad or confused on whether or not you offended him, it shouldn't matter because he was your boss, point blank.

Those types of statements repeated in your head while you kept yourself busy with mundane house projects or research, desperately waiting on Lester to give the call so you could distract yourself with something exciting again. 

Another evening arrived. You were sitting on your (now renovated) porch drinking a beer and admiring the deep orange sunset, feeling relaxed for once. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up, smiling when you saw it was a conference call. You eagerly answered, putting the phone to your ear.

"I've been monitoring bank communications. They've scheduled to have their trucks move the cash to the target location tomorrow afternoon while they work on security, approximately 3:40. We have to be ready to move by then, the money won't stay there for long," Lester said. Your grin widened. Finally!

"Aight, I'm ready to move out," Franklin said.

"Likewise. T, we all good for those special supplies?" Michael referenced the weapons they would be needing for the actual robbery. Unconsciously, you held your breath to hear Trevor. 

"... Yeah. Chef is gonna meet up with you guys tomorrow, I'll get in touch with him." So he was alive then. He sounded oddly stern. Since Trevor was the one picked for the distraction, the crew hired his associate and meth-cook Chef to come along on the job. You'd maybe met the guy once or twice, you could tell he knew how to handle himself in a tough situation. Hell, working for Trevor, you'd better know how to handle yourself in tough situations. 

"I'll get the mail truck in position. Looks like everything is good to go," You added, just so you could add something to the conversation.

"Excellent. Be in touch with you all tomorrow. Remember, our window isn't exactly big, so this has to be precise!" Lester hung up and everyone followed suit except for you and Trevor. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't bring your thumb to the end call button.

"Are you home?" He suddenly asked, making your heart skip a beat. Something about his tone sounded a little odd. You swore it wasn't as playful as usual, but you chalked it up to over-analyzation.

"No, I'm in Las Venturas. Yes I'm home," You replied sarcastically. Trevor suddenly hung up without another word and you squinted slowly. What was that all about…?

You were only able to take a few more swigs of beer before Trevor's red truck pulled up in front of your house. You would have been excited to see him if not for the expression he had. There was no light in his eyes when you two locked gazes, no familiar smile, no playful quips. You weren't aware how used to that side of him you were until it was gone. 

He stepped out of the truck and slowly sauntered to your porch, where he stood at the base and eyed you down with a dark look. Something was definitely up. "Trev, what's wrong? You look like someone broke your little statue again," You joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

"Does your family know you're alive? Do your friends?" 

The question came out of nowhere and was like a slap to the face. You slowly sat up in your chair, concerned and suspicious expression forming on your face. 

"What?.." You spoke slowly.

"I've spent a lot of time trying to find any evidence that you're not a backstabbing snake, but I figured I might as well just ask you up front. Do they know you're alive?" He repeated, tone very cold and stern. Your heart immediately sunk. He'd been researching you.

"Why does it matter." Your reply was plain and simple, matching his icy demeanor. This ticked Trevor off and he clenched his fists. It clearly wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Are you aware that people who care about you are mourning for you? The least you could do is tell them the truth. You have to tell them!" He scowled. 

"What? Trevor, I don't even have their numbers anymore. I left for a reason, I'd be arrested if they knew I was still alive!" Your shock and hurt was apparent in your voice, but you still did your best not to explode.

"You owe them the courtesy!" Trevor exclaimed back. It was clear no matter what you said, his heart was set on the decision. 

"Where the hell did all this come from?" You glared daggers at the man. You  _ knew _ you should have never told him anything.

Trevor twisted his body and lifted his sleeve, showing you a tattoo on his right bicep. It said "R.I.P. Michael". He pointed at the name angrily, "I thought he was dead for nine fucking years. I grieved, I  _ suffered _ for him, only for him to show up alive and well! He didn't even have the fucking decency to tell me, his best friend! Lied to, for nearly a fucking decade!" Trevor huffed, snatching his hand away from his arm. His anger was apparent now, and you were beginning to understand why. He was projecting all of his problems onto you.

You leaned back, looking away coldly. "I'm sorry that happened to you, but it's a completely different situation. I don't have anybody like that back home," You responded, a light shakiness in your words. Truly, it was taking all you had not to smack Trevor across the face for being so bold to you. 

"Bullshit! What about your mother? Your father? Your  _ little sister? _ "

Your head whipped to him, brows knitted together. "Why the hell are you prying into my personal shit?" Your tone was dark and deep, on the very edge of a freak-out. 

"I check all my employees!- Well, most of them anyway. Come on. I'm taking you back home and you're telling everyone that you're still alive."

"What?! No, Trevor!" You exclaimed, suddenly sitting up. 

"Yes! You owe them! Stop being a liar!" He shouted back, slamming his fist on the porch rail. 

"You don't understand!" You growled, gripping the armrests of your chair with white knuckles.

"I understand better than anyone! We're fucking leaving!" 

"No, Trevor! I won't allow it! Besides, the fucking job is tomorrow!" You angrily jabbed your finger in his face, he barely flinched. "I  _ am not  _ letting you ruin this plan. This is my brainchild. I'm willing to talk with you about this  _ after  _ the job is done, but I'm serious. If you try anything I'm.. I'm fucking quitting and leaving!" You yelled, pulling your hand away from his face and looking down at the floor. It was a bluff, of course, but it was all you could think of. Hot messy tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 

Your bluff shocked Trevor, but he quickly masked it. "Oh typical. You're gonna leave again. Are ya gonna fake your death again too?" He sneered.

You shot him the angriest most rage-filled look you'd ever given anyone, tears sitting on the corner of your eyes and brows stooped dangerously low. He was slightly taken aback. He'd never gotten that with Michael. Michael always shrugged him off, never truly caring about his actions, or at least it seemed that way. You on the other hand looked genuinely upset. 

Anger snuffed out his rationality again. Who cared? It didn't matter. What needed to be done had to be done. He'd play along for the heist, but after that he'd make sure you told everyone you knew that you were alive one way or another. For now, he backed off. "This isn't over." He pointed his finger at you, voice deep and rough. He turned and stormed away, getting into his truck and peeling off down the road.

Even when he was gone, the fierce expression still sat on your face. You brought your scabbed hand into your vision. You'd only just taken the bandages off from when you punched your mirror and wrecked your trailer. Now it felt like you were going to slip and fall back into it all over again after you'd spent so much time fixing everything up and cleaning your mess. That bastard. He  _ betrayed _ you. You knew your gut feeling to be closed off was right. He manipulated you and now you were in yet another position you didn't want to be in. You opened yourself up to him like a fool, incorrectly assuming that he was different, that he wouldn't use your vulnerability to coerce you into something you didn't want to do, and yet there you were, sat like a class A clown. 

You struggled to keep your inner balance, not wanting to go on another rampage and hurt yourself again. You were still going to do the heist, and you at least had the faith that Trevor was professional enough to not mess it up because if he did, it wouldn't just be you he was throwing under the bus. That was all you had to hold onto, the bank robbery. It was more important than anything else. The more you focused on it, the more it suppressed your anger. For the sake of everyone else, you had to keep your cool. You couldn't let this interfere and obscure your clarity.

You took a deep breath and gently lowered your scabbed fist. You were far from okay, but it was going to have to do. You simply didn't have the time to deal with it. You stood from your seat, an aura of ice surrounding you, and you walked back into your home opting to distract yourself with more research, looking at maps and satellite images of El Sereno. It never hurt to have extra studying. 

Trevor was far from your level of restraint. He yelled and hit things, often having little to no regard for his surroundings. That night he did not go home, instead preferring to take his frustration out on whoever crossed his path first. When he finally did get home, hours later, he left a telltale red trail going up the stairs and into the bathroom, where he shut himself in and curled up underneath the shower still clothed, watching all the red water and bits of people go down the drain.

\--

You couldn't sleep one bit before the big day. Heist day was frantic in an oddly cool and controlled manner. Everyone in the gang worked like cogs in a machine, preparing their things and moving out to El Sereno in a timely manner. You and Michael were among the first to go, he drove you to get the mail truck since he procured some more stick-on logos so no one would take suspicion at the decommissioned mail truck passing through LS to El Sereno. They would be removed once you got to your spot. Franklin would meet with Michael and Chef at the getaway car, Trevor followed somewhat close behind to get to his post, and behind the scenes Lester monitored every little aspect of bank communication, making positively sure that things were on schedule.

While driving through Los Santos, Michael sat with you in the truck. It was a weirdly comfortable silence. You'd barely talked to him, but you'd grown to relate to Michael a lot since scouting with him. While stopped at a light, you fished out a cigarette in an attempt to calm your nerves. You patted your pocket, frowning. Where was that damn lighter?

Amidst your struggle, you heard a familiar flick and saw Michael holding out his lighter in front of your face. "Thanks.." You leaned forward and lit up, puffing out some smoke. Michael got out his own cigs and you raised a brow. "You smoke Redwoods too?" You tilted your head. 

He shrugged. "America's cigarette or whatever, right?" He gave a sly smile. "Glad to see I can at least smoke around one person here. T gets all up my ass about it." He shook his head, blowing smoke out the window. You resumed driving, face unconsciously getting bitter at the mention of Trevor. Michael noticed your expression and chuckled a bit. "What, you too?" He added.

You bit your lip, holding back the urge to spill everything that had happened onto Michael. "Not necessarily about cigarettes... Yet. But who knows, he'll probably get on my case about that too." You frowned. Michael laughed some more since he could obviously relate.

"Let me guess, it's about your retirement?" He scoffed.

Your heart sped. He was right on the mark. "... Yeah, something like that.." You stopped at another light and looked at Michael with a genuine expression. "Does he always.." You sighed, shaking your head. "It's the right choice to want to be out of the life, right? Even if it means leaving things behind?"

"Sometimes we have to make tough decisions for the greater good. I mean, for me, I got a family. I did what I did to protect them." Michael's voice grew almost paternal as he gave you advice. You slowly nodded, looking back down to the pedals.

".. But here I am," You shook your head, smiling sarcastically, "Shit, this whole thing was my idea. So much for wanting to stay out of it."

Michael smiled as the truck lurched forward. "Hey, I'm here too. Against all better fuckin' judgement, I'm here too.." He stared at the passing buildings. You both shared a unique connection then, a mutual understanding was established without need for words. You understood why Trevor was mad at Michael, but shit, you also understood Michael more than anyone. For this reason, your walls fell, and you desperately wanted advice.

"He found some things out about me.." You broke the silence, causing Michael to gaze over. Instead of interrupting, he allowed you to continue, "He got mad. Really mad. Like, he took it personally.. It made me upset, I questioned everything I've done.. He told me about you too, and what you did.." Michael tensed up. That phrase wasn't usually followed by great things. ".. And I understand why you did it. But now he's hellbent on doing something stupid because he's comparing us.." You admitted. Michael softened. Someone understood. Someone finally understood.

".. You been resurrected too?" He asked.

You were silent for a moment. ".. Yeah. I don't know if we're in it for exactly the same reasons though.."

"Did you do it to protect someone?" He followed.

You looked at the road thoughtfully. Things were complicated, but you supposed you had partially done it to protect someone. Your little sister. You always feared that you were a terrible role model for her. "... Yeah." You finally answered. 

"Then in my opinion, it was worth it. I'm not gonna get between you and T since I don't really know the whole thing, but that's all that really matters to me. Do you also have a 'Trevor' back home?" Michael said.

"No, I don't, and that's what he doesn't understand. I got the people I was closest to killed and against all reason I got out alive. I figured it was a sign to do better things but fuck, I don't know. He doesn't care. Or listen." You seethed, hands gripping the wheel. 

"If it's one thing Trevor doesn't do, it's listen. At least this explains why he's also been giving you attitude all morning." He rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah.." You half-heartedly agreed. You weren't sure what to think. On one hand, Trevor actually was a great listener at times, but on the other hand he was a bone-headed stubborn asshole who was irrational beyond all belief. His personal ideals outshined all else. 

Unbeknownst to you, Trevor drove nearby, hearing everything. He gripped the wheel of his (stolen) car like he was strangling it. You'd accidentally left your earpiece on. He had half the mind to turn his on and begin yelling, but he restrained himself so he could listen further.

Jealousy bubbled up inside of him. How come Michael suddenly swooped in and got you to spill your guts to him within a few hours when it took him a whole interrogation?! That was so typical of him, not having any regard for Trevor's feelings for you and filling your head with utter bullshit. What did he know? He took a few deep breaths, trying to focus on the road. He split lanes and got onto the freeway, heading another direction from the mail truck. The connection from the earpiece soon fizzed out. Deep down, he knew why you opened up so fast to Michael instead of him. You hated him. It was obvious. You were so resistant to being around him and telling him things, it wasn't hard to see. But what was new? No one seemed to ever want to be close to "crazy Trevor" unless it was by force. 

Without much further thought, he yanked his phone out and dialed your number.

"... It's tough, but I'm sure you'll figure something out. You know, I think you and T get along better than you think. I've seen him around you. I think you got a better chance of him listening to you than any of us," Michael said. 

"Really?" You glanced over, a small shred of hope in your eyes.

"Yeah. Trust me." He patted your shoulder and you smiled at the kind gesture. Suddenly, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. You fished it out and handed it to Michael. "Can you answer it for me?" You asked. 

He took it and raised a brow when he saw the screen. "Huh. It's Trevor." He swiped the answer button and put it on speaker, leaning in. "Hey T, what's up?" He asked.

"Of course leave it to the two snakes to get together and have a field day complaining about Trevor! Wahh! Wahh! I'm so mad Trevor has some fucking standards and I don't!" He mocked in his high-pitched baby voice. Michael rolled his eyes. 

"The fuck are you goin' on about?" He asked.

"(Y/N) left the earpiece on, and I heard it all. Ohhh yeah. Why don't you two just hook up already and you can have some more reptilian kids, Mikey!" Trevor growled. You gritted your teeth.

"Trevor focus on the fucking heist!" You yelled back.

"I am focused on the heist! Are you? Because all I hear is two liars talking behind my back! No discussion of plans or anything!" Trevor retorted.

"Jesus T, she just wanted some advice. Why're you being so hard on her?" Michael spoke up.

"Oh here comes the white knight to protect his lady. She's a liar just like you Mikey- But!! Unlike you, _ Michael _ , she can still be saved. She's not as deep in the pit as you are, and so help me I will make sure she doesn't get there," Trevor spoke with a commandeering tone.

"What does that even fucking mean?" You grimaced, glaring at the phone.

"It meaaans, one way or another you're getting back home."

"Damn it Trevor, I told you we could talk about this after the job! Don't fuck this all up!" Unconsciously, you began to speed a little.

"Oh don't worry, I won't. Just make sure  _ you _ two can focus instead of impregnating each other with reptilian eggs or however the fuck it is your species reproduces!"

Michael stared awkwardly between you and the phone. Clearly there was more to the situation than met the eye. Before you both got out of control, he pulled the phone towards himself. "Okay, okayy! Thank you for your input Trevor, we'll be sure to keep it in mind. You just worry about your part, we got it aaalll under control here," He interjected calmly before quickly hanging up. He gave you your phone back and you snatched it away, obviously pissed off.

"So much for us getting along," You sneered, shoving the phone back in your pocket. You wasted no time in ripping your earpiece off and shutting it down, throwing it onto your lap. Michael could only stare as you did your best to keep a lid on all the anger you had. By that point, most of Trevor's remarks didn't get to him anymore. Clearly, you still had a ways to go. 

"He doesn't know what he's talking about. He gets stupid when he's upset.. Er, more stupid than usual. He can't handle people saying anything remotely bad about him, even if it's true." Michael tried his best to calm you down.

"You know, for a moment there, we were doing okay, me and him. I was actually beginning to enjoy his company. I thought he would be different." Frustration and clear disappointment were laced into your words, Michael quickly raised his brows.  _ Oh. _ He understood very clearly what was going on, but he kept his mouth shut because he wasn't sure if you even knew it yourself. You certainly had a.. Unique taste in men, to put it one way. 

"Trust me, he doesn't mean it. Well, most of it… Kind of. Listen, his attitude comes from a place of concern.. Or something like that. Shit, I don't really know. I just know I've known him long enough to know when he's really gunning for somebody, and to me it just sounds like he's being an ass with you. That's the meat of it." Michael fumbled with his words, unable to fully explain the enigma that was Trevor. Your face gradually softened and you were no longer as visibly irritated.

"Whatever. We're almost there. As long as he can do his job, I really don't care." You shrugged. Michael stayed silent, recognizing how eerily similar you both bottled up your emotions. 

It was a good while of driving before you finally reached Franklin and Chef. Before Michael left the car, you spoke up. "Michael- Thank you," You blurted out, making him stop and look over to you. "Thanks for the advice and stuff. It was good to talk with you."

He gave you a slight smile and nodded to you. "Sure, anytime. Just know you got someone on your side whenever you need it. Good luck out there, I'll be in touch soon." He slid out of the truck and you gave one last nod to the crew before quickly departing to the waiting spot. Only a few hours before the operation was a go. 

Looking back to Michael in your rearview, you smiled to yourself. Underneath the constant self-deprecating sarcasm and cheesy movie quotes, he was a good guy. You wished your parents could have been understanding and likeminded like him. You thought back to Trevor's quips. As for hooking up with him, the thought didn't sit well with you. He had a family, and you didn't want to come between that. What's more, even though he wasn't bad looking, he was almost a little too tame for you, as weird as that sounded. You viewed Michael as more of a mentor than anything, and you were frustrated to admit it, but Trevor still had a weird hold on you, even with his recent stupid antics. Still, though, Michael and you shared a unique connection because of your circumstances, and you were grateful to not be alone.

You pulled the truck into an alleyway between two large office buildings, stepping out into the cool coastal air. God, the temperature in El Sereno was paradise compared to Sandy Shores. As the clock ticked down, you removed the logos from the truck, discarding them in trash cans nearby. You changed into your postal service disguise and hid the clothes in one of the numerous empty packages in the back. Lester was in close contact, confirming times and maintaining observation of the banks.

\--

Hours had passed and Lester made the call. The police needed to be distracted soon before the armoured trucks pulled into the bank and began storing the money.

On the other side of town, Trevor strolled down busy residential streets. His mind, though still irritated, was in heist mode. Everything else was on the backburner while he focused on his job. In just a few minutes, he'd need to work his magic. He walked up to a rather uninterested-looking lady on her phone, sitting on the curb. "Hey." He stood over her. She boredly looked up to him, raising a brow. "In about two minutes, I'm gonna need to make a distraction. If you can play along and don't ask any questions, I'll pay you your fair share," He bargained. The woman squinted.

"Yeah right. Get lost." She rolled her eyes.

Trevor squatted down to her level, a menacing look on his face. "Hey, you can either play along and get paid or I can make a real distraction out of you that'll bring the entire police force over here within minutes. You're lucky I'm giving you a choice," He growled. The lady's eyes widened. "And rest assured sweetheart, I'm a man of my word, so whichever one you choose.. Well, you get the point." He added the last part semi-threateningly, casually shrugging. 

"Woah woah, ok fine. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't do anything rash," She stuttered, quickly putting her phone away. 

"That's a girl. Now just hang out with your new creepy boyfriend and lets get this little party started," He waggled his brows, taking a ginger seat next to her, all the while a rather disturbed look was etched into her face. His eyes scanned the surroundings. People were walking down the street enjoying the sun, it was the perfect spot to cause a ruckus. "Alright. You need to go along with everything. We're gonna need the police here for a domestic violence call." He instructed. The woman stared, eyes agape. 

"I-I…" She started, unsure of how to reply. She was still in shock. 

"Well get up!" Trevor got into his act, quickly standing up and yanking her to her feet. Already, a few eyes were on them. She still did not move, fear was in her eyes. "I'm so sick of you always talking back! I told you not to talk about my mother that way!" Trevor continued, clenching his fists. His gravelly voice echoed down the streets and more people were stopping to watch the scene. When the woman still didn't reply, Trevor tilted his head and raised his brows as if to cue her it was her turn.

"U-Um.. Stop! Stop yelling! I.. I hate when you get like this!" She yelled back, still not on the same intensity level as Trevor. He threw his arms in the air and mustered out a loud fake laugh, pacing in circles.

"Oh, when I get this way, when  _ I _ get this way?!" He suddenly got up in her face, making her stumble backwards, "You are so ungrateful! How many times do we have to go through this before you understand? Huh?!" Trevor inched closer. 

The woman began to look around, somewhat getting more into character. People all around were stopped in their tracks and gawking at the two. "Would someone do something?! He's not right!" She cried out.

Trevor snatched her wrist and began to pull her away. "Baby, I don't even know why you do this. You always make a fool out of us in public! We're leaving, now!" Trevor announced.

"N-No!" The woman pulled away, half in-character, half-genuine.

"Hey! Stop!" A man came to the rescue, Trevor smirked.

"This is between us, bud. Stay out of it." He glowered.

"Let her go. You shouldn't be treating a lady like that." The guy stood his ground.

"Who are you to say how I can treat my woman?!" Trevor let go of the lady's wrist and shoved the man, quickly causing a scene. Out of the corner of his eye, he could already see concerned pedestrians whipping out their phones and calling 911. Perfect.

A few manic swings and terrifying roars of rage later, Trevor could quickly hear the police sirens encroaching on him. He immediately backed off, getting a little more docile even though he'd already put the man on the floor.

"How could you do this?!" The woman exclaimed, running over to this scene with tears in her eyes. Even he couldn't tell if she was acting anymore, but it didn't matter that much.

"Oh he'll live. Get over it." Trevor scoffed. 

Black and white cruisers soon pulled up, surrounding Trevor. He put his hands up cockily as the uniformed officers rushed over to him.

"Now's the time. Everything is set up, you have your window. Go!" Lester announced over the phone to Michael, Franklin, and Chef. They pulled their ski masks over their faces and barged into the bank, sticking their guns up.

"Get down! Everyone stay where you are, this is a fucking robbery!" Michael declared, whipping his AR over to the lady behind the window. "Hands up, I wanna see everyone's hands!"

You anxiously smoked a cigarette in the front seat of the mail truck, hearing everything over the earpiece. There was chaos on all ends, people screaming, Michael yelling, and Lester's stern directions. 

Michael was busy stuffing bills into duffel bags with Franklin when Lester spoke up again. "Alright. Alarm's been triggered. The police are gonna be on their way. You guys have a good 10 minute window to get everything and meet with Red before they start swarming and setting up roadblocks." He said.

"We're well on our way. There's mountains of cash in here, everything is looking to be pretty good," Michael replied. You silently pumped your fist in triumph when you heard the good news.

"Oh officer, do you need to strip search me? I think I've got something for you in my front pocket," Trevor spoke in a sultry manner to the cop who had him pressed up against a cruiser. Suddenly, their radios were going off and the officer's expression quickly changed.

"You're extra fucking lucky today, mister!" The cop yelled at Trevor, releasing him from his grasp. All at once, the police got into their cars and sped off like bats of out hell, sirens and lights filling the environment. Trevor dusted himself off as he watched them leave, big smirk on his face.

"Toodle-oo officers!" He gave them all a dainty wave before turning to the woman. He fished out his wallet and discreetly handed her a thousand in cash. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as she quickly pocketed it. "Like I said, man of my word. You don't speak a word of this to anyone. If anyone asks, you dumped me and I skipped town," He jabbed his finger at her, speaking in a low voice.

"O-Okay. I won't say anything."

"Good girl." Trevor spun on his heel and ran to his stolen car, getting in and blasting off towards your location to regroup. 

"Come on man, we gotta go!" Franklin called out to Chef, who was in the process of backing out of the bank, guns pointed at people. Michael joined Franklin in the car, Chef followed soon after, hopping into the back. There was still no visible sign of cops, but they could hear the sirens approaching fast from somewhere in the city. Franklin peeled out, zipping into an alleyway nearby. "Red, we on the way. Everything looking good?" He spoke into his earpiece.

You flicked your cigarette out of the window, tapping the steering wheel in anticipation. "Yep, all good. Haven't seen any pigs yet. How's the take?" 

"Pretty fucking good if I do say so myself. We could have easily gotten more than a mil in there," Michael replied. 

"Yes!" You pumped your fist again, doing a small victory wiggle in your seat.

"How about T? He there yet?" Michael added.

"Not yet. I haven't heard anything," You said.

"He's on his way to you. I can see his location from where I am. The police are a few blocks away from the bank. Everything appears to be going to plan," Lester joined in.

"We're close. See you soon Red."

"Got it." With that, you hopped out of the car and opened the back of the truck, taking a deep breath. Your hands were slightly trembling from all the excitement. This was it, the final stretch. It was up to you to get the money out of the city.

Tires screeched nearby and you saw Trevor hop out of his car and jog over to you, looking around cautiously. "Where the hell are they?" He climbed into the back of the truck, taking shelter with all the boxes.

"Right on time." You nodded down the alleyway, where Franklin was slowly pulling up. Michael and Chef climbed out and met you halfway, exchanging the heavy duffel bags with you. 

"Alright, it's all you. Get that money out of here." Michael put his hand over yours and shook it in an encouraging manner before quickly departing and getting back into the car with Frank. Behind you, Trevor stared daggers at his friend when he touched you.

"F, drive safe!" You waved to Franklin and he gave a little nod before backing out and speeding down the alley in the opposite direction. You carried the heavy bags full of money and threw them in the back with Trevor, shutting the van and getting back into the driver's seat. 

"Get that money hidden!" You started the truck and slowly pulled out, carefully checking your surroundings.

"Get that money hidden.." You heard Trevor quietly mock you in his baby voice, which made your nerves flare ever so slightly, but you were too focused to  stay mad. 

You could hear sirens coming from the direction of the bank, but thankfully it wasn't too close by.

"Alright, the cops are spreading out, they're going to be setting up blocks very soon. Take the route we discussed and remember to get to the parking structure once you get to LS. Good luck," said Lester. You inconspicuously began driving the mail truck in the opposite direction, towards the residential side of El Sereno. Since you couldn't haul ass without looking weird, it was going to be a narrow window for you to squeeze out. The plan was to exit more towards the middle of the city, up by the airport. You'd take low-key routes until you reached a parking structure in LS with another getaway car waiting. You'd ditch the mail truck and take the car and haul ass back to the desert. It was a slow plan, but it was worth it to avoid suspicion.

"We got some cops on us. We're leading them away from you." Franklin said. 

"Alright. I guess this is the real goodbye. I'll see you all back at the desert." Your earpiece fuzzed out as the distance got too large between everyone and you took it off, hiding it in your shirt pocket. 

Your nerves were on edge, looking around every corner you turned for cops. From the back, you could hear Trevor opening boxes and shoving the duffel bags inside.

"You look silly in that outfit," He spoke up after a few minutes of driving, making you frown.

"Well you looked silly in that officer's outfit. I guess looking silly comes with the job." Your voice was careful, not wanting to say the wrong thing and start another argument at the worst time. 

"I hardly looked silly. I'd be tempted to say I looked hot if I didn't hate cops so much." He boasted. You held your tongue, unsure of how to reply. You heard him shuffle some more in the back. "Can you drive faster? It's hotter than a ballsack back here," He sighed. 

"I'm going as fast as I can without drawing attention, T. The police are gonna notice a mail truck drifting across neighbourhoods at breakneck speeds. We'll get there just- Let me focus please," You huffed, cutting the convo short. Trevor was right, the truck had absolutely no air conditioning and was hotter inside than it was outside. Your anxiety mixed with the muggy air was making you sweat like you were in a sauna. 

Tense silence ensued as you neared the airport. So far, everything was going smooth. You'd seen one cop, but they paid you no attention. As you were on a relatively empty street nearing the city limits, a siren wooed from behind you. "Fuck!" You looked in the rearview mirror and saw a cruiser coming towards you. You weighed the choices in your head and decided it would be a bad idea to try and outrun them. You donned the disguise for a reason. "I'm gonna try to out talk him." You spoke as you pulled over, putting your hand on the wheel. "Don't make any noise.." You instructed. Trevor was as quiet as a mouse. The officer was soon at your window, you shot him a pleasant smile. "Hello sir, is everything okay?" You asked.

"Just fine ma'am, but I'm afraid we aren't allowing entry or exit out of the city. Bank's been robbed. Haven't found the suspects yet, so we're closing off the city."

You widened your eyes in fake surprise. "What?! The bank?! That's terrible. El Sereno has always been so laid back. I hope you catch them soon."

"Us too."

In the back, Trevor was picking harshly at the scabs on his hands, trying his best to restrain every fiber in his being telling him to go out and put the cop in the ground so you both could escape.

"Well officer, do you think you could make an exception this once? I'm on a pretty tight schedule and I can't afford to lose this job," You bargained. "People gotta get their mail," You added the last part playfully, gesturing to all the secretly empty envelopes and packages surrounding your seat.

"I'm sorry, no can do. As much as I'd like to let you off, protocol won't allow it. I'm sure the postal service will understand the delay."

You were beginning to panic. "Well what should I do? I really need to get to Los Santos," You said.

"Well hopefully it won't be long until we catch these crooks. You can wait it out in town, but other than that more officers are on their way to secure the place, so I really can't offer much else." The man shrugged. You internally cussed, looking at your wheel. Your hands were getting cold and clammy and it was hard to maintain a steady train of thought. You could wait it out in the town in theory, but it wouldn't be long before someone was bound to notice your truck was actually decommissioned. Think (y/n), think. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea, if this officer didn't notice, the others may not be so speculative. Still, on the other hand, you weren't sure how much longer you or Trevor could sit in the metal death trap, especially since Trevor couldn't leave.

"Well, mind if I step out of the truck then? It's really hot in here.." You politely asked. The cop stepped back, gesturing for you to step out. You slid the door open and sighed, fanning yourself down. The cop was beginning to walk away when a sudden loud ruckus emanated from the back of the truck. Your heart stopped and you stared, clenching your jaw. It sounded like a bunch of boxes had fallen. Damn it, Trevor. Your eyes quickly flitted to the cop to see if he noticed, and of course he had. 

"What was that?" He asked suspiciously.

"Oh gosh, probably a stack of boxes. Yeah, they were loaded in pretty sloppily this morning, I'll have to fix that later," You said quickly.

He eyed you down. ".. Mind if I take a quick look in the back?" Your guts felt tangled and cold at the statement. That was the last fucking thing you wanted to hear.

"Oh, it's just boxes officer. Trust me, happens more often than you think." Your head was buzzing, thoughts moving at one thousand miles per second trying to think of each and every way to get out of there.

"I believe you, we just gotta cover all bases because of the circumstances."

"Well officer, if I'm not mistaken, don't you need a warrant to check the mail? I just don't want you to get in trouble.." You replied quickly.

"I'm not gonna check the mail, I just need to see the back ma'am. Open it up for me." He nodded to the truck. You were paralyzed at the situation. You weren't sure what was going to happen. Trevor could easily lunge and rip out the guy's throat, causing a huge scene. "Ma'am?" The officer repeated. You nodded and sauntered to the back, feeling icy all over your body. At least they couldn't check the mail right away, but Trevor was bound to raise red flags.

Your sweaty hands slipped off of the handle a few times before you were finally able to yank open the back door. In a quick second, you sent Trevor a pleading look to stand down and he seemed to oblige, but barely.

"Whose this?" The officer quickly said. Your eyes darted around, desperately trying to think of an excuse.

"None of your fuckin' business," Trevor replied cockily.

"I'm gonna have to call this in.." The officer turned away and reached for his communicator but you jumped and grabbed his arm, making him spin around with his hand on his gun.

"No please don't! My husband can't know about this!" You cried out, backing away with your hands up. Trevor's brows shot up from behind you. The cop slowly brought his hand away from his weapon and his eyes searched your face, then went between you and Trevor. You could clearly see him questioning your choice in partners. "W-We do this a lot. I take him on my routes and we fool around while I'm on break. Please. My husband can't know." You shot the officer a begging look, the genuine panic in your system aided your cause. 

The cop scoffed, shaking his head. He seemed to buy your excuse. "It's illegal to have someone unsecured in the back. I'm sure you know you could easily lose your job because of this." He scolded.

"I know I know, God.. I'm so terrible.. I was going to quit soon, I just.. I feel so bad ever since me and my husband got into this huge fight and I'm such a weak person, and Jerry has always been such a good neighbour and-"

"Alright, alright calm down. You're getting hysterical. I'm going to be extra nice today because you look like you're having a hard time, but I never want to see this happen again. This ends today, got it?"

"Yes sir.." You nodded slowly, heart beating with some relief that he bought the lie. He began to walk back to his car again before pausing once more, this time tensing up. Oh no.

"Hey.. Mail isn't delivered on Sundays." He turned around with a hostile look. If you thought your heart had sunk before, this time felt like an expedition to the deepest trench in the world.

Idiot. Idiot idiot idiot. Of all the time planning and scrutinzing over details, how could you have forgotten the simplest fucking thing of all? Mail isn't delivered on Sunday. And there you were, right smack dab in the middle of a nice Sunday afternoon posing as a postal service worker with over a million dollars worth of stolen money the back of the truck.

"Um.." You seized up, heart rate increasing exponentially. Trevor noticed your body language and decided to take things into his own hands. You'd done well up until that point, but there was simply nothing else you could say. He sprung into action and in less than a second, he was wrestling the officer to the ground, trying to keep his hands away from his gun and walkie-talkie. "Shit!" You exclaimed, still frozen in place. "Don't kill him!" You pleaded, clearly able to see that Trevor was easily overpowering the man with his brute strength. His eyes flitted to you for a split second and he went back to it, using one swift punch to knock the cop out clean. He slowly got up, giving the guy another kick for good measure.

"Jesus, T!" You put your hands on your head. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid.

"Just fucking drive!" He yelled, getting back into the truck and shutting it. You fumbled for a few moments before running back around to the front and getting in, peeling out before any reinforcements could arrive. If you went fast enough, you could make it out before the road was blocked. 

A familiar eerie silence filled the truck as you raced towards the city limits. No cops yet, but sirens definitely approaching. You focused with everything you had to make it past the stoplight and onto the freeway before the light changed. 

At the last second, the truck flew past the changing light and you finally made it to the freeway. Everything in your body released its tension, even in places you weren't even aware you were tensing up. You merged into traffic, letting out a huge sigh. "Fuck.. Fuck! I'm so stupid. How did none of us fucking realize it was a Sunday?! Fuck!" You slapped the steering wheel as you drove.

"To be fair, it's a stupid rule. I don't even know what day it is half the time, why should anyone be fucked to remember that? What matters is that we got away, from here on it'll be a lot easier." Trevor spoke up from the back. 

"We barely got away. Fuck, if that had been a two man patrol, things would have been a lot worse."

"But it wasn't. Calm your tits. I took care of it, he isn't getting up from that one for a while," Trevor reassured you. You tried to focus on his words, realizing that you were in the present. By some miracle, your ridiculous mistake didn't cost you the entire score. You were still in the clear. 

"Yeah.. Yeah… Thanks Trevor.. For not killing him.." You sighed.

"I really should have but we were in a rush. I couldn't take my time like I wanted to." Trevor exaggerated. He'd mostly held himself back for you. He rarely did that for anyone, even Michael sometimes had trouble keeping a leash on him. But the way your eyes looked in the moment, filled with dread and terror.. He couldn't contribute to that. Even if stomping that pig into the asphalt would have been infinitely more satisfying, he couldn't put you in that situation. 

"Yeah well, you really saved our asses, so thank you." You repeated gratefully.

"Oh, I haven't saved your ass quite yet, not fully at least."

You frowned once again. Even after all that had  _ just _ happened, he was still bringing that up? "Please give it up Trevor. I'm not going." You stated as plainly as you could, trying to make it as clear as day for the man.

"At this point it's really not up to you. 'Fraid my mind's set," He replied, crossing his arms.

"What do you mean it's not up to me? It's my goddamn personal business, it's my  _ life  _ we're talking about here!" You huffed, brows knitting together. 

"You don't know what the right choice is, you're deluded. Trust me, you'll thank me when it's all over."

"Trevor-.." You growled his name but quickly shut up, regaining your focus on the road. Now wasn't the time. You still weren't in the clear just yet. You had to make it to the getaway car and get the money hidden before you could fully avert your attention to being pissed off at Trevor. "We'll talk about it later." 

"Sure, but don't expect anything to magically change," He responded casually, putting no more effort into the matter. He really had made up his mind, and that was unsettling. If Michael was right about how Trevor didn't listen, you weren't sure what you were going to do about the situation. You mulled it over in your head for a brief period. Well, it was simple wasn't it? You just wouldn't let Trevor take you back. How hard was that to avoid? It's not exactly easy to move someone all the way up the state without them noticing. The thought filled you with some relief, giving you the false impression that you still had some control over the situation. 

\--

The sun was setting once you reached the parking garage in LS. Once the coast was clear, you and Trevor wordlessly got all of the money into the new car, ditching the mail truck on the top floor. As Trevor sat up front with you, you both secretly relished the air conditioning that the car offered. 

Trevor stared out of the window to the passing buildings in silent frustration. His mind kept going back to the excuse you'd used with the officer, how effortlessly you said you were fooling around with him, and how genuine you appeared to be when talking about it. If he focused really hard, his brain could twist it and imagine it as if it were really true.. But it wasn't. You were just like Michael. Surprisingly good at weaseling your way out of situations with lies that would never be true in a million years. You'd never want to fool around with him, Trevor had already convinced himself that you preferred Michael. He was already certain you'd never look at him in such a lustful light, let alone romantic, yet he kept on thinking about you almost every second because he didn't know what else to do. Despite being pissed off at you for being a liar and unloyal to whatever friends you had back home, he could not help but still be attracted to you, and he resented it. It was going to end the same way it always did. You'd leave him. He was certain after he took you home you'd obviously never want to talk to him again, but it was for your own good. Your fake death angered him so much, he was willing to sacrifice whatever weird relationship you two were developing to make it right again. More jealousy arose within him as he replayed the image of Michael holding your hand just before everyone split ways. How dare he? The man was married, did he truly not have any decency whatsoever? He knew Trevor was into you!

Every now and then you'd glance over to Trevor while stopped at a light. He looked more pissed off than usual, but you had a pretty good guess as to why. Instead of dwelling on it, you were trying to be happy that you'd just robbed a bank with  _ your _ plan. It really was like a fantasy. As soon as the money was hidden, everything was a success. You never would have gotten away with something so huge back home.

Back home…

Like that, any triumph and glee you'd once had vanished in the wind. You sourly looked at Trevor from the corner of your eye. You remembered telling him you would talk to him about it, but you really didn't want to. You certainly weren't going to bring it up unless he did, and so far he was nothing but silent. You tried to rationalize everything in your head. Maybe he listened to you and that's why he wasn't talking about it. Deep down you knew it probably wasn't true, but for your own sake you clung to the thought to avoid sinking down another downward spiral with him.

Not able to take any more mind-numbing silence, you flicked on the radio and switched it to Channel X, instead opting for the angry music to drown everything else out. Trevor slowly looked over to you, silently nodding your head to the fast beat while totally focused on the road. Heat rose to his face and he looked away. It seemed the universe loved presenting him with any chance to bond with someone, only to use it against him later on down the road. He clenched his eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore it so it wouldn't bite him in the ass later, but of course he couldn't. He just got even more infatuated with you. Eventually, he gave in to the warm fluttery feeling in his chest. 

_ 'Take that Mikey. She likes  _ my  _ music.'  _ He thought to himself. He knew he didn't have a chance against Michael, but he held onto the thought just to give off the illusion that he did. You may have related with Mikey on everything else, but damn it, you liked his music.

The sun dipped below the horizon as you were finally passing the border of LS County into Blaine County. Your sleep deprivation was quickly catching up to you, the only thing keeping you awake was the fast-paced punk songs on the radio. You sped past all the cars on the freeway, environment gradually morphing into the familiar dry and empty desert you recognized. You merged onto the long and barren roads, whizzing past billboards and cacti until you finally got to Trevor's airfield. You'd been there a couple times by that point, but seeing all of the aircraft up close was always kind of fun. Ron was waiting patiently for you both there, and he took over the getaway car as you and Trevor stepped out. 

"Put that money in the safe spot I told you about, and don't go fucking with it or I'll eat your toes!" Trevor commanded into the window.

"You got it boss! It's safe with me!" Ron smiled, giving a thumbs up. He pulled out of the airfield and down the road to the hiding spot. Trevor began making his way to his red Bodhi when he caught you tiredly staring at one of his planes. He stopped and put his hands on his hips.

"Don't tell me you want to go flying all of the sudden," Trevor said, making you jump at the sudden sound of his voice after not hearing him talk to you for hours. 

You paused for just a little but too long when staring between him and the planes, and he noticed. You had to admit, you were secretly tempted. "No. No.. I'm way too fucking tired. I feel like I'm gonna pass out right here on the dirt," You answered stiffly. 

"Be my guest, but uh, it's not very comfortable. Speaking from experience."

You smiled at his answer, your sleep deprived brain found great amusement in imagining Trevor sprawled out in the middle of the runway dead asleep. For the briefest moment, it felt like everything was back to normal with him, and it was great. "Nah, I'm going to go home, sleep in my actual bed. God, I'm so tired I can't even feel excited about pulling all that off. What's wrong with me?" You shook your head and quickly stopped, "Don't answer that." You sternly pointed at him. Trevor's lips curled up and he walked back to his truck, you followed since your own car was parked right next to his. Why oh why did you have to smile at him like that and give him mixed signals? Trevor had no idea what to think. "Tomorrow I'll be happy.. And tomorrow we can.. Talk about that stuff." You stopped by your car door, looking at him.

"Uhh yeah, we're certainly going to have plenty of time to talk about it tomorrow." He got into his seat and you squinted at him. Something was off about his tone but you weren't sure what. 

"What's that mean?" You were on edge again, and Trevor sighed. You certainly didn't stay happy around him for very long. 

"Well it just means get some rest because it's gonna be a long day ahead of us." He shrugged.

"What?" You reiterated, squinting at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake quit askin' me questions. We can talk about it tomorrow sleeping beauty. Go home." He waved you off impatiently and sped away in his truck, leaving you in slight confusion. Maybe you  _ were _ too tired to decipher whatever the hell he was talking about. Too fried to think about it any longer, you shook your head and made the last leg of the trip back home, eager to sleep for about 16 hours straight.

As soon as you got home, it was a straight line from your door to your bed. You didn't even bother to change out of your clothes, instead you just stripped down and fell asleep within ten minutes of hitting the mattress. The day was hectic. Way too fucking hectic. Still, everything worked out, and for that reason you fell asleep with a gentle smile on your face. 

\--

4:48 A.M. 

Trevor slowly walked down the dusty street towards your trailer. If you were somehow still awake at this time, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

He quieted his steps, walking up your creaky porch as best he could without making too much noise. Looking around, he could see the new wooden boards you'd been installing all over the place. Too bad your renovations were going to have to wait. His scabbed hands wrapped around your door latch and he gently pulled it, the door miraculously opened. Had you been too tired to lock it? 

The man snuck in, squinting through the darkness of your trailer. It was the first time he'd been inside. It was musty and smelled of booze and old air and somehow messier than he expected. He peered into your bedroom which was just to the left, sure enough you were sleeping like a dead person on the sheets. He inched closer and froze, face heating up like a furnace when he saw you were just asleep in your underwear. He simultaneously felt a little bad for peeping but he also wanted to stay and watch all night. Trevor shook his head. As much as he'd love to, he had a plan to stick to. He carefully scooped you up and took you outside where he had a special ride waiting for the both of you. He made a few more trips back and forth to get you some clothes because it was going to be a long trip ahead.

When he said he had made up his mind earlier, he wasn't joking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now after this is where the story takes a large turn in environment and action, let's do this! Thanks for reeeaaadiiiiiing, more to come as always. I just... like drama and angst. I just cant write a story if mfs arent yelling and having angry thoughts all the time.


	9. Roadtrip!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to just say, I am SO sorry for the long wait. I really didn't mean to let this go, and please don't worry, I'm still very invested in it and GTA, but I just sunk into one of my stagnant periods. Your kind words get me through. Thanks so much. Anyhow, here's chapter 9! You wake up and find yourself in an unexpected place. Your cork finally pops off and you can no longer hold back.

A slight bump woke you up and you shifted slightly, eyes still closed and brain half-asleep. You immediately felt that your room was colder than usual. Thank the heavens for that. Maybe it was one of those rare cool mornings in Sandy Shores? You stretched a little, tugging your blanket up your body. As you gradually got more lucid, you realized something didn't sound right. It sounded like an engine was running or something. Was your swamp cooler malfunctioning again?

You slowly blinked open your eyes and immediate panic shot through you when you saw you weren't in your room. Your thoughts became scrambled as adrenaline began to course through you and you quickly sat up, looking around. You were in some sort of RV and it was being driven. Your immediate thought was that it was a kidnapping. But who would kidnap you? Maybe something had gone wrong with the bank job, you must have left some sort of trail. It was incredibly tough to think straight and come to any sort of conclusion that made a lick of sense. You wrapped the blanket around your skimpily-clothed body and slowly got up, trying to be as quiet as you could so you wouldn't alert whoever was holding you hostage. Your eyes scanned the cramped interior for anything that could be used as a weapon, but unfortunately the room looked to be picked clean on purpose. You couldn't even find your phone, but oddly enough a stack of your clothes at the end of the bed.

You got dressed into whatever random clothes you snatched up in world record speeds then slowly inched out of the room, looking to the front. Your stomach twisted when you saw Trevor's familiar balding head in the seat, driving down an unfamiliar road. 

"Trevor?!" You trudged up to him and he was slightly startled when he looked back to you.

"Well good morning! You slept for quite a while."

"What the fuck is this?!" You snappily gestured to the motorhome.

"You like it? I stole it last night from some engaged couple-"

"No, I mean what the hell am I doing here?" Anger leaked into your tone rather quickly. You already had an idea what it was for, but you needed to make sure.

"We're going to Redwood," He said plainly, looking back to the road. You were suddenly frozen, simultaneous terror and rage crawling up your body. You clenched your fists tightly, hands beginning to shake.

"Pull over." Your voice shook, betraying your anger.

"Come on, just take a seat, we can-"

"Pull this fucking thing over right now!!" You shouted rather loudly. Trevor raised his brows and looked at you. It was the loudest you'd gotten in front of him. 

"Okay okay, jeez.." The RV slowly came to a stop at the side of the road and you wasted no time in walking towards the door.

"Now just wait-" Trevor sprung up from his seat and grabbed your arm. As soon as he touched you, you could not hold back any longer. You snarled and yanked away from him, turning to him with animalistic rage in your face.

"You immature fuck!" You spat out, getting up in his face, "What do you think this is?! This isn't a game! I told you I wasn't going back, that doesn't mean you can just fucking kidnap me! Fuck you!!" You roared. Trevor backed away, but it was barely noticeable.

"You're right, it's not a game. This is serious and I don't fuckin'  _ care _ if it makes you uncomfortable, princess. This needs to be done!" He yelled back. 

"You don't fucking know anything!" You screamed, voice cracking.

"Oh, you are utterly ridiculous!" Trevor crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. That was it. You'd reached your boiling point. You weren't even thinking when your fist shot out, quickly connecting with Trevor's mouth. He exclaimed and stumbled back while holding his face. He stayed in that position, staring at the floor with his hand obscuring his face from you.

Immediate regret and terror filled you, and you rapidly retracted your fist against your chest. "Oh God. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I'm so sorry," More fear filled you as Trevor didn't move for several moments. You'd seriously fucked up this time.

Terrorized confusion berated you when he began laughing. It was quiet at first, but quickly evolved into a manic fit. He suddenly turned back to you, licking up the fresh blood on his lips. "There it is!! Show me how you really feel! No more holding back!" His voice was crazed and he had a shadow over his eyes as he stared you down, smiling with bloodstained teeth.

You huffed and put your hands back down to your sides. "Trevor enough! I want to go back home." You frowned. He almost looked disappointed as the psychotic expression gradually vanished from his face. 

"Sorry, no can do." He shrugged.

"God damn it! I can't stand you sometimes!" You spun on your heel and stomped towards the door once again, but Trevor grabbed your wrist. It angered you, but not nearly as much as before. "Let go!" You pulled away again, but it only yanked him towards you.

"What are you so scared of!" He kept restraining you, beginning to struggle as you kept trying to escape his grasp.

"Damn it Trevor, I can't go back! They'll arrest me!" The more you pulled, the tighter his grasp got. Amongst the flailing, his other hand latched onto your arm and he reeled you in again, almost making the two of you slip. 

"I told you they won't do that, not as long as I'm with you! I'll fuckin' kill 'em!" He grunted, now trying to spin you away from the door.

"I can't!" You cried out once more, nearly tripping over his foot. He used your unsteadiness as an opening and pulled you back into his chest, crossing your arms over your chest akin to a human straight jacket.

"You're with me! Cops won't mess with you! I won't let them!" He growled, pulling you even closer and limiting your movement. You shouted and squirmed fiercely, kicking and flailing your legs like a child throwing a tantrum. Trevor's strength was too much and you couldn't do much else but fight his grasp and scream until you got tired. Through your heavy breaths, you heard him talk again, this time much softer, but still irritated. "You're with me. Nothing is going to go wrong." 

You clenched your eyes shut and let out a loud yell, completely going limp. "Fine! FINE!! Just let go of me!" You heaved, eyebrows knitted together in defiance.

Reluctantly, Trevor released you and backed away. You stumbled forward and readjusted yourself, catching your breath. You turned to him, a furious expression on your face. "As soon as I'm able to get out of here, I'm never speaking to you again." Your voice was suddenly ice cold. You weren't able to see it, but Trevor's heart was crushed into a million pieces at that moment. His expression stayed defensive, however. 

"Fine. But you aren't leaving until you tell everyone back home the truth." His voice was equally cold, never once betraying the true whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing underneath.

"We'll see about that." You muttered, leaving him and going back to the room in the back of the RV. Trevor stood there, staring at the floor for several moments. He could still taste the blood leaking from his lips, but your punches were not the worst pain that you inflicted on him. Each moment he carried on with his plan was like walking through broken glass with bare feet. There was no way you weren't going to hate him after everything was said and done, hell, you probably hated him already, but his sense of duty willed him to keep going. It had to be done, no matter the consequences. He bit his lip and silently walked back to the driver's seat, starting up the RV and continuing the journey upstate.

\--

You stewed in your bitterness for a couple hours in the back, familiar angry tears dripping down your cheeks and onto the white sheets. You should have known Trevor was going to go to extreme lengths to see his stupid idea through. It was Trevor for fuck's sake. Kidnapping was never off the table. In the end, there was no real way you could have avoided this short of moving halfway across the country to avoid him. He was dead set on it.

Still, you had one last trick up your sleeve. You'd play along with Trevor for the rest of the day and as soon as he went to sleep, you'd sneak out, steal a car, and hightail it back home. Of course you physically couldn't plan further than that because you knew deep down even running home wouldn't save you. You lived a few streets away from him for God's sake. But you ignored that thought process as soon as it arose, only wanting to focus on leaving. Nothing else mattered.

You took a deep sigh, wiping down your wet face. You'd calmed down significantly and you were ready to go back out and start trying to get on Trevor's good side. You pushed yourself off the mattress and shuffled up to the front of the vehicle where Trevor was still driving. You could feel the tangible shock coming off him as you wordlessly sat down in the passenger's seat, staring out of the window. It was a part of San Andreas you weren't entirely familiar with. Agricultural fields stretched on for miles and miles and the landscape was boring and green. 

"How long have you been driving?" You eventually spoke up.

"Since the morning.. So five hours," Trevor said. 

"Have you eaten?" You gradually looked over to him.

"Nope. Not hungry."

You sighed. "Well I am. If we're gonna drive all the way up to Redwood, we need to stop for food." Trevor frowned a little at your statement.

"I'm not stupid. You're not going to get away that easily. If you think you can just run off while we stop at a random place, you're severely mistaken, sweetheart," He replied. You rolled your eyes.

"I'm seriously hungry! You're not actually going to starve me are you? Can't we just stop someplace for a bit? I won't leave your sight," You put up your hands in innocence, "I promise."

Trevor glanced at you from the corner of his vision. Your words reeked of bullshit, but he realized not everyone could go for days without eating like he often did. He knew he could be cruel, but not to you. Torturing you wouldn't be fun for him under any circumstance.. And it sort of scared him.

"Besides.. You need to eat anyways," You added quietly, looking away and pulling him from his thoughts. His brows furrowed. Why did you suddenly care?

"I'm not hungry.. But fine. We can fuckin' stop somewhere.." He mumbled, letting out a short huff. 

"Come on, when's the last time you ate?" You prodded.

"Drop it." Trevor shot you a serious look and you leaned back in your seat, looking away. 

"Fine, fine, whatever.." You waved your hand at him lazily and continued to stare at the passing fields outside the window. 

You drove on for 40 more minutes before Trevor spotted a truck stop with a diner straight out of the 50s in the middle of nowhere. He pulled in and parked, carefully watching you as you exited. He had to admit he was a little surprised when you didn't immediately bolt like he expected. Instead, you both entered the diner and sat at a booth. Very few customers were inside, maybe one or two truckers drinking a coffee at the stools in front. The interior was rather cheesy, complete with bright red vinyl upholstery and a jukebox gently playing sappy doo-wop tunes in the corner. 

As soon as the older waitress gave you both menus, your face was buried in it. Actually smelling the diner and seeing pictures of breakfast on the menu made you realize just how hungry you were. Trevor watched you intently while you weren't looking, arms crossed with a neutral scowl on his face. Despite knowing it was just going to hurt him worse, he admired the way your eyes scanned through the menu pages, closely reading them. If he pretended for a few moments that everything was fine, he could almost imagine the scenario as a date. He was never one for such cheesy things, but with you he felt he could indulge. The thought made his lips curl up into a smile and you met eyes with him while he was watching you with an entranced gaze. He quickly looked away, his smile fading. A twinge of disappointment struck you, and you weren't entirely sure why. You reached across the table and pushed his menu into his chest, causing him to look down in confusion.

"Eat." You said. 

"I told you I'm not hungry." His brows dropped in a pouty fashion.

"That's the drugs talking. Just get something small, okay? I'd rather you not wreck the RV and kill us both cause you suddenly start to crash," You retorted, returning your gaze back to your own menu. Trevor shifted in his seat uncomfortably, eyes searching your face. Why would you suddenly care? This had to be some sort of manipulation tactic.. Right? He glanced down to the menu, pondering for a moment. Well, eating with you would sort of be like a date. The closest he'd ever get, anyway. Might as well relish it before everything went horribly wrong later on down the road. He let out a short sigh and plucked the menu off the table, opening it up and trying to find the smallest thing that he could. You watched him from the top of your menu, an unconscious smile forming on your face. 

Your gaze fell upon his busted lip which he licked every so often, still bright red and scabbing from your fist. You suddenly felt very remorseful. You'd lost control. You stared for a moment longer, observing his calm expression as he read. The sunlight from the huge booth window hit his face in such a way that his eyes almost glowed. Had they always been so golden..? You shook your head slightly, cheeks turning faintly pink from your thoughts. 

"Hey," You grabbed his attention, lowering your menu. Trevor looked at you and raised a brow. "I'm sorry for hitting you earlier.. I really didn't mean to. I lost my cool," You spoke softly, and it caught him off guard. He fidgeted, shrugging his shoulder and darting his eyes around in an attempt to find something to say. 

"Eh.." He shrugged a shoulder, "It wasn't that bad. Besides, I'd really rather you show me how you really feel than hiding it all the time. If you really wanna hit someone and they deserve it, then you should hit 'em," He replied. 

"N-No! I didn't  _ want _ to hit you, I mean maybe I did in the moment, but it wasn't.. I wasn't really thinking about who I was putting my hands on, I just swung. You didn't deserve that," You fumbled, immediate blush rising to your face when you thought about how cheesy it sounded. 

Trevor looked uncomfortable. "Well.. Apology accepted then. But you know, I could get into that sort of thing," He added playfully in an attempt to hide his confusion. 

You lightly snorted at his comment and raised your menu again, shaking your head. "You never quit, do you.." You mumbled, secretly grateful for the comic relief.

"I think it should be quite obvious how persistent I am by now," Trevor said, eyes dropping back down to the table. What did your words mean? What were you trying to get out of him? Surely you didn't feel true remorse when you clearly disliked him so much? He hated being toyed with.

The waitress rescued the two of you from your clouded and puzzled thoughts when she came to take your orders. You ended up having the heartiest option on the menu and Trevor reluctantly got a small appetizer. The food arrived quickly since business wasn't exactly booming and you quickly got to work, stuffing your face with food. Across from you, Trevor could barely muster up the appetite to take a few bites before giving up and picking at his hands. 

You watched him occasionally while you ate, noting how focused he looked when he scratched the sores on his knuckles. Half of you wanted to grab his hand to make him stop picking at himself, but your other half was still too upset with him to care. You couldn't overdo it. You had to sell that you were just barely okay with Trevor's arrangement enough for him to let his guard down by nightfall.

The silence was awkward and tense. Trevor didn't do much but look out the window impatiently and stare at you. You finished up your plate and Trevor ended up getting his food boxed up. Right as he slapped the cash on the table to pay for everything, you scooted out of the booth and stretched your legs. "I'm gonna use the bathroom," You said nonchalantly. Trevor immediately shot you a suspicious look. 

"There's one on the camper," He nodded outside.

"Come on, really? I'm not gonna run out. Where would I even go? Besides, I don't wanna use that thing while you're driving." You crossed your arms. 

"You don't get to be picky," Trevor said.

"Ugh, can't you trust me enough to use a goddamn public restroom? I'm trusting you enough to take me back home where I could potentially be  _ arrested. _ " You argued. Trevor was silent for a few moments, searching your face. 

"Fuckin' fine, but I'm waiting outside the door then." He pushed himself out of the booth and scooted you towards the back.

"Is that really necessary?" You griped.

"Compromises, darling. Now hurry up." He nudged you towards the door and you pouted, entering the bathroom with frustration. You didn't particularly like the idea of Trevor listening to every little noise, but it was something. You were slowly building up his trust. 

You did your business and stood at the sink, washing your hands. In the mirror, you saw there was a window in the bathroom above the stall. You bit your lip, staring at your soapy hands. It'd be easy to leave the sink on and book it out of the window. You'd done it many times before. By the time Trevor realized, you could hide in the dumpster in the back. Sure you might get a little dirty, but-

Trevor knocked on the door. "Are ya still in there?" You heard him ask. You shut off the sink and took a deep breath. It wasn't worth it. You just needed to be patient. 

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming.." You opened the door and pushed past Trevor. While the door shut, he got a good look at the window illuminating the bathroom. You could have easily ran. Trevor looked between you and the window for a moment before following you out. But you stayed. Why did you stay?..

Both of you got comfortable in the front of the RV before it pulled out again, back on the road. 

Bright green trees whizzed by along with huge billboards and great open fields that stretched on for miles.You could make out some mountains on the horizon, but they weren't the familiar mountains you knew from Los Santos. You began to notice something rather peculiar after driving for a few hours. Trevor was avoiding highways, instead taking long stretching roads in the middle of nowhere only accompanied by truckers and maybe one or two regular cars. The more you thought about everything, the RV, scenic routes, and truckstop diners, the more you felt like you were on a road trip and not Trevor's hostage. You eyed the man from the corner of your eyes suspiciously. He was smarter than you thought. He was even trying to subliminally manipulate you, it appeared. Well, you wouldn't let him. 

"So," you pulled out your last pack of cigarettes, which you'd thankfully found amongst your clothes earlier, "why aren't we taking any highways?" Before answering, Trevor snatched up your cigarettes without looking and threw them out the window. You stared at him, mouth agape. "Trevor! That was my last pack!" You complained, watching the small box shrink into the distance in your rear-view.

"Well they're bad for you. Plus this RV is stolen and I don't wanna get ID'd," He explained.

"Well I don't see why we couldn't have just  _ flown _ instead of taking a longass trip that makes me want to smoke!" You crossed your arms and sat back in your seat angrily, "I mean, don't you just want to get this over with already? Because I do," You grumped. Trevor's insides seized up at the statement.

"Well sue me for wanting to make this experience a little more enjoyable for you!" He growled.

"Even if you'd flown me on a luxury jet with a personal spa treatment this trip would still be terrible." You looked down, brows creasing in thought. You suddenly looked back up to him, a metaphorical light bulb turning on over your head. "Are you really trying to make this more enjoyable for me? Or is it for  _ you?"  _ You probed, narrowing your eyes. Trevor froze up and you could tell by his expression that you'd hit the nail on the head. "Hah! I knew it!" You leaned back again, looking out the window bitterly. "You want to make me miserable. That's what this is all about." You shook your head. 

"Arrghh, no that's all wrong!" Trevor growled, gripping the steering wheel.

"What do you mean?" You asked snappily. 

For once, Trevor found it hard to talk. He'd always found it so easy to say exactly what was on his mind, so why did it feel like his mouth refused to open? "I wanted to- All I wanted was to-" He fumbled over his words, making you stare weirdly. You'd never once seen Trevor get constipated with his words. "I wanted to spend more time with you before you inevitably leave me after all this! And it's kinda fuckin' hard to sneak someone onto a loud ass plane!" He spat out angrily, punching the wheel in frustration. You were stunned at the statement. Spend more time with you..? You slowly looked around, coming to an odd realization. Was he seriously trying to make this whole thing  _ romantic _ in some weird twisted way? You wouldn't put it past him, but you were so sure Trevor despised you after finding out you were lying about your death. He had to, didn't he? Why else would he constantly give you attitude and call you all those names?

You both sat in silence after that. You had much to think about. If you thought you were confused about Trevor's intentions before, you were now absolutely bewildered. He did way too many contradicting things and it was overwhelming. "I just don't understand.. Why are you still doing this if you know it makes me upset? If you're worried about me leaving, why don't you just stop?" You eventually asked.

"Because it's too important. I  _ suffered _ when Michael-.. Do you have any idea what it's like to grieve over someone you love?" Trevor said. You frowned, looking down somberly.

"Trust me, I know.." You muttered.

"Well what if one of your friends was alive?" Trevor continued.

"Trevor I saw them. There's no way.." Your voice trailed off.

"Well I'm sure that's what people must think about you, but here you are."

"You don't understand-" Your temper began to flare.

"I'm just saying, how would you  _ feel?"  _ He cut you off. "How would you feel knowing one of them lived but they never bothered to tell you or even  _ look _ for you? And you only found out because say, oh I don't know, they robbed a place and were on the news?" Trevor's tone was slightly bitter as he recalled some of his memories. You looked down in thought. Well when he put it that way…

"I guess I'd be.. Pretty upset," You admitted.

"Eeexactly. Now you're starting to get it. Gold fuckin' star for you." He nodded.

"But  _ they _ were my best friends. I don't have anyone else like that back home, I told you already."

"You still have a family. Based on some of the stuff I read, I'd say they really miss you. That's a rare fuckin' sight for people like you and me." 

Your jaw tightened. "That's really complicated, Trevor.." You said sourly.

"Enlighten me," He jeered.

You huffed, standing from your seat. "You know what, even if I told you it wouldn't change anything. You'd still insist I go back despite it." 

"Mmm, yup. You're probably right on that one." Trevor shrugged. You rolled your eyes, walking towards the back of the RV. You suddenly wanted to be alone. Your thoughts had gotten a lot more complicated within the past few hours and being around Trevor wasn't helping. 

You plopped down on the lower mattress in the back. At the very least, Trevor had stolen a camper that had two queen sized bunks in the back. You lied down on your side and stared out the window, watching the scenery speed by. The sky was orange with the setting sun, it wouldn't be long until night fell and you could escape… But did you still even want to? You felt absolutely crazy for even thinking about staying, but a small part of Trevor had gotten to you. It'd been a long time, after all. Maybe things had changed back home. You clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. No way. You were going to leave that night, and that was final. Trevor was just manipulating you, and you had to remember that. Even though he  _ seemed _ genuine, you had to keep your guard up. After all, you'd let your walls down and that got you into this whole mess. Escaping was for the better. 

When the sun fell below the horizon, you walked back up to the front of the camper where Trevor was still driving. "Hey," you greeted from behind him. He let out a grunt in response. "You've been driving pretty much all day and I haven't seen you eat a thing, you good?" You asked.

"Just fine, sweetheart." He sounded rather snappy, which made your brow twitch. He was so strung out he wasn't even tired. 

"Well why don't we pull over and call it a night?" You slowly suggested. 

"Look, you don't need to pretend to care to get what you want from me. Michael used to do that all the time and I hate it. Besides, I don't want you running off." growled Trevor. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were suddenly angry and you weren't sure why.

"Don't assume to know how I feel. That pisses me off." 

"Well it's true ain't it?" 

"No. I'm being serious. You need to take a break." You crossed your arms. Trevor suddenly looked very tense. Feeling his apprehension, you sighed and rolled your eyes. "I'm not.. Ugh, I'm not fucking pretending to care, Trevor.. I'm really mad at you but I still don't want you getting into an accident or something," You added softly, releasing the tension from your shoulders. Several moments of silence passed until the camper slowly began to drift to the side of the road. Trevor put everything in park once the vehicle was off the road and he stood up, towering over you.

"You don't make a lick of fuckin' sense." He pointed his finger in your face then walked towards the back of the trailer grumpily.

"Neither do you.." You said under your breath, following him to the back. Trevor snatched his boxed leftovers from the small fridge and sat at the dinette, eating the contents with his hands. He looked pouty and irritated, as if he was thinking something over in his head. You eyed the shower nearby and shrugged. It was a non suspicious way to pass the time.

You could feel Trevor's gaze on you as you got a change of clothes and entered the tiny bathroom, pulling the accordion door shut. You prayed he wouldn't try peeping on you. More heat rose to your cheeks as you stripped down, remembering you'd woken up in only your underwear. Shit, he definitely saw that. He most likely carried you into the camper. Great, now you had the image of him with his hands all over you while nearly nude. You stepped into the cold water, rinsing off your face. Of course you were still mad at him, but it somehow made thinking about him in a lustful manner even more exciting. You laughed to yourself as your brain sarcastically thought about revenge sex. You then quickly raised your brows, heat rising all over your face as you realized it didn't sound like a bad idea. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with you? You shook your head, scrubbing your scalp, and pushing the thoughts out of your head. You were going to leave as soon as he crashed. First you'd need to find your phone, then you'd book it in the dead of night and get away in the first car you could steal.

You finished your shower quickly and dried off just as fast, getting changed into some different clothes. You opened the accordion door, Trevor was no longer at the dinette, just the trash that he left at the table. Instead, he was in the next room, sitting on the bed and checking his phone. There. In his right pocket you could see the edge of your phone peeking out. Bingo. You slowly met eyes with him and he quickly stood up.

"I call top bunk," He spoke akin to an excited child.

"Um  _ no _ . I don't want to have to worry about stuff leaking on me." You pushed past him and settled onto the top bunk, resting your damp head in your hands. Trevor huffed from below.

"You're goddamn lucky I like you," He commented, sitting back down on the bottom bunk.

"Oh yeah, I'm sooo lucky.." You replied sarcastically. Things were quiet for a while until he piped up out of nowhere. 

"Ron! How the fuck are things going back there?" His sudden yell made you jump. You could hear Ron's faint voice over the other line on his phone but you couldn't understand what he was saying. "Yeah what about her house?" Trevor growled. Ron spoke. "Well then fuckin' fix it! Have Wade help you!" He replied snappily. Your interest piqued. "Yeah yeah, alright. Call me if anything important comes up." Trevor hung up and threw his phone across the mattress. You hung over the railing and peeked at him while hanging upside down. 

"Whose house?" You asked.

"Yours."

"What? Wait what about it??" Slight worry formed in your tone. 

"Ron and Wade are lookin' after it. I'm gonna have them continue where you left off with those windows," He replied casually. 

"O-oh… They better not break anything.." You leaned back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.

"I told 'em I'll skin them with a potato peeler if anything was broken, don't worry about it," Trevor reassured. More heat rose to your cheeks. It was a weirdly nice gesture. 

"Goodnight," You said quickly, turning on your side. The sooner you left, the better.

"Yeah… Okay," Trevor replied quietly. 

You laid there for an agonizing amount of time, listening closely to every little movement and sound that Trevor made. The man shifted and hummed quite a lot and he didn't go still for a good few hours. On your end, it was very tough to lay there and not fall asleep yourself. You willed yourself through it, knowing you had no other choice.

After a very long time of hearing nothing but silence from below, you carefully peered over the railing. You could see Trevor's silhouette lying on the bed in the dark, sprawled out on his back with his foot hanging off the side. He was as still as a statue. Now or never.

You wormed your body over to the ladder and gently climbed off, moving like a sloth so you would not accidentally wake him. When you finally reached the floor, you stood over him, observing him to make sure he was actually asleep. He twitched every now and then, but he looked absolutely knocked out. Your palm slowly hovered over his pocket and you bit your lip. He was wearing jeans, and the restricting denim made it tougher to wiggle your phone out as it was deep in his pocket. 

Snaking your fingers into his pocket ever so delicately, you'd pause every now and then to make sure he was still asleep. Well this was certainly a compromising position. Your fingers grazed your phone and Trevor suddenly squirmed, bucking his hips a little and grunting. You held your breath and looked at him with wide eyes, fearing the worst. Thankfully, he was still asleep. You had no idea how you would explain yourself had he woken up. You pinched your phone and gradually slid it out of his pocket, moving away as soon as you retrieved it. You pumped your fist silently and exited the room, going to put your shoes on by the entrance.

Trevor's eyes slowly opened. He'd been awake the whole time. He couldn't bring himself to move while you took your phone back, firstly because he liked the sensation, but secondly because he wanted to see the outcome of the situation. He heard the door open and silently close again and he shot up, stealthily walking to the exit. 

You paced around once you were finally outside, cool night air threading through your hair. Shit. You were paralyzed and you weren't sure why. Unbeknownst to you, Trevor watched you from the small window on the door. He was about to burst out and confront you when you suddenly dialed up Michael on your phone, putting it up to your ear while walking in circles. Red hot resentment seeped into his head. Of course you called Michael. Who else would you turn to?

The line rang a few times before Michael picked up, sounding tired.

"(Y/N)? What's up? Everything okay?" He croaked out. It sounded like he'd just woken up.

"No, Trevor fucking kidnapped me!" You hissed.

"... What? Where is he taking you? He just told us he was leaving on business for a few days," replied Michael.

"Back home, the last fucking place I want to go. I told him no multiple times when he offered to take me back until he just fucking ended up taking me on a stolen camper!" You explained.

"What's the big deal? Just steal a car and leave."

You sighed. "I live a few houses away from him, Michael. I can't exactly avoid him."

"Well what do you want me to do?"

"You're his best friend! How do I make him leave me alone?"

Michael laughed. "If I knew I'd tell you. Trevor isn't one to just drop things."

You were silent for a few moments, deep in thought. It became clear there was no real way to avoid going back home. "... Michael, how do I know I can trust him?" You spoke softly, holding the phone closer.

"What do you mean? It's Trevor. He'd probably amputate himself before turning his back on you. This probably isn't a big shocker, but the guy is head over heels for you."

"I know I just- so far he's manipulated me into nearly every choice I make around him. How do I know he's- that he's not trying to take advantage of me?" Trevor listened from the window, some tension releasing from his body. Is that what you really thought of him?..

"I know Trevor can be kind of manipulative, but you have to understand that manipulation doesn't come from a place of ulterior motives, it comes from a place of... Well, a really fuckin' troubled life. The guy wears all his emotions on his sleeve, if you aren't sure how he's feeling you can just ask him. He's... Brutally honest, whether it's good for him or not. Trust me."

"... Yeah. Thanks M.." You stared at the cracked asphalt, kicking a pebble around.

"Anytime. Have fun on your trip.. Or not, if you find a way to leave. Remember what I said. You got a better chance of him listening to you than any of us." The line clicked and you slowly put your phone into your pocket. You stayed in that position for a while, staring at the ground in contemplation. The only thought you now had to cling to was the microscopic shred of hope that things would be different when you inevitably returned home. You didn't have the money to drop everything and move away (since the bank money couldn't be spent right away) and quite frankly, you didn't want to. You really did like Trevor somewhere deep down and you didn't want to go through the trouble of dropping off the radar all just to avoid him. You needed to face this head-on.

You spun around and reentered the RV, stopping in shock when you saw Trevor standing right in front of you after opening the door. He almost looked as surprised as you. Your expression quickly fell and you sighed, knowing you'd been caught red-handed. You unpocketed your phone and handed it back to him. Hesitantly, he took it, and watched you with a quizzical look as you brushed past him towards the room.

"You didn't leave." His voice stopped you. He sounded confused. 

"Well, you got me. I've got nowhere to fuckin' go," You turned around and shrugged sarcastically, "You win!" You sneered. Trevor just blinked.

"What did Michael say?" He questioned. 

"Honestly, nothing helpful. You are fucking stubborn, you know that?"

"So I've been told." 

You exhaled deeply, eyes wandering to the floor. "All I can do now is hope everything goes okay. As okay as it can get, considering it's already all fucked up.." You mumbled.

"... It will. You're doing the right thing."

"Mmm.." You laughed with an edge in your tone, "Sure. Whatever you say. I'm done arguing with you." You held up your hands. "Goodnight, for real this time." You turned away and climbed up the bed, nestling yourself into the blankets. Trevor slowly followed. You didn't leave him.. You'd had multiple chances all day and you didn't leave him despite being furious with him. What was that about?

\--

You fell asleep after a while of trudging through your inner turmoil.

You were suddenly back in that red sedan, rocketing down the mountain road. Your entire body felt very cold.

"They're gaining, th-they're gaining!!" Your accomplice Layne cried out. God not again. You didn't want to feel the pain again.

As you looked to your right, you saw Franklin sitting in the seat next to you. "What the fuck?" You heard yourself blurt out. In the rearview, Trevor's red truck was chasing you along with the police.

"CLIFF! THE CLIFF!" your other buddy, Sierra, shrieked. You hated that line. It was never followed with anything good.

The car spun and flew off the cliff and you clenched your eyes shut, screaming loudly and dreading that first impact.

"Hey! Hey!!" Trevor shook your struggling body awake. Still half-asleep, you yelled again and instinctively grabbed at your hip, where you usually kept a piece on you. When your brain felt that it wasn't there, you began to swing your fist in a panic. "Woah, wake up! It's a dream!" Trevor exclaimed, catching your fist. You slowly gained more consciousness, breaths steadying as you came to the realization that you were back in the RV. You looked over to Trevor, who was leaning over the railing and looking at you with a concerned expression. "Fuck.. Fuck! Sorry.." You breathed out, wiping the tears from your eyes. You noted that Trevor did not let go of your hand.

"Nightmare?" He asked. You nodded silently in response, secretly appreciating the comfort his hand brought you. He stayed quiet for a few more moments and you took the opportunity to add on, not yet fully awake and still too panicked to hold back.

"Fuck.. I don't wanna go back.. I killed them.. I killed them all.." You exhaled shakily and Trevor squeezed your hand. 

"Hey. Hey," Trevor snapped his finger in front of your face, bringing you back to reality, "everything's fine. You're here right now." His words seemed to have some experience behind them. You looked around the room, slowly nodding your head and coming back down to Earth as you mentally listed off a few objects in the room. It was a tip you'd picked up whenever you started to panic.

"Yeah.. Yeah.." You finally calmed down, shutting your eyes. The sensation of Trevor's large hand over yours became very apparent. Still, neither of you moved. Gradually, his fingers laced between yours. Your eyes shot open and you held a stare with him in the dark room, heart speeding up. "Thank you.." You gently pulled your hand away and held it against yourself insecurely.

".. Uh huh." Trevor hopped off of the ladder and you heard him return to his spot below you. It was still dark outside, and you weren't sure how long you'd been asleep, but you knew you certainly weren't going back to sleep for a while after that. You laid on your side, holding your hand against your quick-beating heart. Why couldn't he just take you back home? Curse this stupid camper. Curse it all. He had the gall to comfort you through nightmares that he was causing in the first place. Why couldn't he just take you home??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I got a comment asking about fluff, I promise it will be a little more frequent in coming chapters! Pacing is important to me and I lean more towards stories where things develop slowly, even though I know it can be a bit agonizing and for that I apologize! Haha. I will try to be better, I have the next 2 chapters already written, I don't want to leave anyone of you hanging. :) Expect them maybe next week-ish? I can give no guarantees because like I said in the beginning, I like to have chapters on back-up so I'm gonna try to be writing more. OK enuf word vomit.


	10. Cut Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you journey on to Redwood, Trevor's drug use gets to be a little too much for the both of you to handle. With a new agreement, maybe things can still go your way after all?...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I decided to change the plot slightly. Instead of just one year away from home, you the reader will have spent maybe about 6 or 7 years away, having left home around your highschool/college youth years. This won't be affecting too much, I just thought it would help things have a better punch and make other things make a little more sense. I'm gonna be changing a few minor things in early chapters for this, it's up to you if you want to reread that or not! If this is your first time reading and it's already done, you don't need to worry obviously! Lmao

You sat on your bunk watching the scenery speed by outside. By the time you'd woken up, Trevor was driving again. It didn't seem like the man had gotten very much sleep at all. You resided in the room, still slightly shaken from your nightmare. It was tough to come to terms with the situation. You carefully climbed off the bed and walked up the camper, a grimace forming on your face. It was significantly more messy than last night. There were random clothes hanging off the dinette, presumably Trevor's, the counter was more cluttered with trash and magazines, Trevor's pipe was haphazardly laying about with a bag of crystal accompanying it, and as you neared the driver's seat you spotted a duffel bag filled with guns sitting behind him. 

"What happened last night?" You asked.

"What do you mean?" 

"Well there's crap everywhere, looks like you were up all night messing around with everything," You commented, taking a seat and jumping up quickly when you felt something poke your ass. You reached down and grabbed some brass knuckles with spikes on them. "Really?" You dangled them near his face.

"Uhh did you just want to stroll back into your hometown unprepared while you're so worried about being  _ arrested? _ " Trevor shot back.

"Are you expecting to get into a giant shootout? I mean-!" You leaned over and pulled the duffel bag towards you, holding up a grenade, "are these really necessary??"

"You can never be too prepared in my experience." Trevor scratched his arm hastily. You put everything back carefully and eyed him for a moment. He looked more strung out than last night, eyes reddened from staying up all night and focused on the road with a piercing gaze. 

".. So how long have you been driving? The sun just barely rose an hour ago." You changed the subject.

"Mm not long. Few hours maybe. Why? Are ya hungry?" asked Trevor. You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise at his attentiveness.

"Well actually I am a little hungry now that you mention it.." Your mouth filled with a little drool when you thought about eating at another hearty all-American diner.

"Excellent! We can find a gas station, I need to refuel this thing anyways," Trevor said, scratching at his arm once more. Your excitement was quickly lost when you realized that he had no interest in sitting down to eat again. Oh well, you guessed some convenience store food would do. You needed to pick up a few supplies Trevor had neglected to bring along, like a toothbrush for starters.

The camper trekked along the winding roads, scenery having changed from large open fields to more lush forested areas with towering mountains on the horizon. Little by little, you swore things were getting more familiar. You'd catch a rare blip of something you recognized from your original journey to Los Santos from Redwood. It was unsettling.

Trevor pulled off the road into a gas station which was fairly empty. Both of you got out into the chilly early morning air, finally able to stretch your legs. Trevor was fidgeting slightly more than usual while he waited for the gas to fill the large camper. You wondered how much it would cost to fill the huge thing. 

"I'm gonna get some stuff, you want anything?"

"What the hell're you talking about? You gonna pay with a blowjob?" Trevor jabbed. You took your ratty old wallet out of your pocket and waved it in front of his face with a smirk before quickly putting it back.

"There's only so many places to hide things in such a small space, Trev," You replied back sassily. 

"Ugh, fuck.." Trevor muttered under his breath. You turned to walk into the convenience store when Trevor grabbed your arm and stopped you.

"Wait. I'm going with you," He said. You squinted for a moment before pulling your arm away, leaning against the camper in defeat.

"Sure, whatever.." You mumbled. Both of you stood there for quite a bit while waiting for the tank to fill, Trevor tapping his feet and picking at scabs on his arms with his dirty and chipped fingernails. Your brow twitched as you watched him dig into his skin repeatedly. "Do you have to pick at yourself so much?" You blurted.

"What? I'm fuckin' itchy, okay? It's the speed," He sighed, dropping his arms to his sides once you pointed out his behavior. Well at least he stopped for a little bit. 

As soon as the tank filled, you wasted no time in entering the convenience store with Trevor, nicking things off the aisles like a vulture. By the time you reached the register, your arms were full of snacks and booze. Trevor seemed to have the same idea as you because he walked up next to you with a couple of sixers, donuts, and nudie magazines, setting them on the counter and nearly overcrowding it. The cashier stared blankly at the mountain before him, pausing for an unnecessarily long time before getting to work on scanning things. His look was clearly judgemental, but you decided to look past it. Sure, it was kind of rude, but it was just a one-time stop. 

Next to you, Trevor shifted uncomfortably. "Somethin' you wanna say, pal?" He said. You quickly looked up at him, anxiously sipping your gas station coffee. Oh God Trevor, not now...

"W-What?" The cashier replied, taken aback.

"Well you clearly look like you wanna say something, maybe I was mistaken," Trevor continued, putting on a faux-friendly tone and shrugging.

"T.." You mumbled quietly, but he didn't seem to hear you. 

"Sorry if I did something wrong, sir. I've just had a long shift. But hey, just let me know if I can get you two any more beer," He jested, trying to lighten the mood.

"Are you  _ mocking  _ us?" Trevor leaned in, brows knitting together. You sighed, not liking where this was going.

"T it was just a joke.." You tried coming to the poor cashier's defense so Trevor wouldn't make a scene. 

The cashier looked irritated as well. It was clear he wasn't awake enough to keep up his customer service act. "If you have a problem, you can leave. I already apologized and I meant nothing by it," He replied firmly. Trevor clenched his fist. 

"We bring you all this business and you're telling us to leave after making fun of us?!" Trevor yelled.

"T, come on," You grabbed his elbow to pull him away from the counter slightly, but he shrugged you off. 

"No! I won't have some minimum wage moron trying to mock us while we're simply trying to buy our goods in peace!" Trevor looked at you.

"Actually I own this store, sir, and I have the right to refuse service to anyone. And I really don't think I should be selling to some alcoholics who might be putting others at risk on the road in that huge thing," The cashier snapped back. Both you and Trevor raised your brows at his bold statement, which he obviously regretted as soon as it came out of his mouth. Okay, now you were a little angry too, but not enough to go crazy like Trevor was. You still wanted to get out of there while things weren't past the point of no return. 

"We can find another gas station, come on-"

"Asshole!!" Trevor cut you off by leaning over the counter and scooping his hand around the cashiers head, swiftly smacking it against the counter with brute force. 

"Fuck!! Trev what the fuck?!" You shouted, jumping back at the sudden loud noise it made.

"Ow! Shit!! What the hell man?!" The cashier stood up, holding his bloody face while staring at Trevor with an expression of fear.

"You'd better apologize!" Trevor growled.

"Fuck you!!" The cashier seemed more preoccupied with the blood seeping through his fingers. Trevor shut his eyes in irritation, hands balling up at his sides.

"Mmm wrong answer!" He reached across the counter again and smacked his face against the counter with more force, the cashier yelping as his blood smeared and splattered against the surface. You could audibly hear the crunch of his nose breaking.

"Goddamn it T! Stop!" You cried out, looking around in a frenzy to see if anyone was watching what was going on.

"Gimme that!" Trevor snatched your hot coffee from your hands and dumped it all over the cashier's head, which earned him an agonized scream as soon as the steaming liquid made contact. Trevor threw the empty cup at him and smirked in satisfaction.

"Shit, come on!" You took the brief moment of distraction while the cashier was writhing in pain to grab as much stuff off the counter and run out the door, Trevor quickly following you. 

Both of you scrambled into the RV as fast as you could and you instinctively ran to the driver's seat, scrambling for the keys which weren't there.

"Fuck do you think you're doing?!" Trevor ran up behind you. You quickly got out of the seat, letting him take control. 

"Force of habit, sorry! Fuck!" You gripped the passenger seat, looking around like a startled deer to make sure no one was trying to stop you two. Trevor started the camper and peeled out, sending a lot of things in the back for a ride. Once on the road with no signs of further commotion, you dropped your shoulders. "Trevor, what the FUCK?" You frowned, glaring daggers at the man next to you. 

"You fuckin' heard him! I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting us like that!" He huffed.

"He was a little rude, but that was totally an overreaction!" You berated.

"Well sorry I don't let people walk all over me like you do!" He snapped back, eyes angrily focused on the road as he sped up. You flinched at the comment. You knew he probably pulled it out of his ass in the heat of the moment, but it was too personal for you considering the circumstances. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You narrowed your eyes, feeling like you wanted to pull his hair out. Trevor growled loudly, RV swerving roughly as his focus was being pulled in two places at once. 

"Arggh! Nothing! Everything! Fuck!" Trevor punched the steering wheel and you backed off slightly, getting the hint as his nails found their way back into his skin, scratching and scratching. He was obviously tweaking a little too hard. 

"Whatever, you'd just better not get any fucking cops on us," You crossed your arms, moving your gaze onto the rearview mirror to watch the road for any signs of trouble. 

Eventually, Trevor's driving became less erratic as the coast cleared. By the luck of the gods, no heat had found its way back to you. Once some of the tension faded away, you went to the back and sorted through the food, ripping open a breakfast sandwich you bought. You were still slightly upset about your coffee. You'd seen Trevor get angry before, but this instance seemed particularly petty. Your eyes wandered to his pipe laying out on the counter. He'd been hitting it more than usual, the reason why was an enigma to you. To stay up longer? To relieve some sort of stress? Who knew. You could only speculate. 

"Gimme my donuts!" Trevor called from up front. You grabbed his donuts and brought them to him, sitting in the passenger's seat once more. He stuffed the sweet treats into his mouth and made a noise akin to a moan as he ate them. "Fuck that's good," he said with a full mouth. You smiled briefly at his antics and ate your sandwich, watching the road stretch on. If it weren't for the destination, you'd admire the beauty of the scenery. 

While driving, you noticed Trevor pass by the road he was supposed to turn on. You looked over to him and he seemed none the wiser, he just stared ahead with half a donut hanging from his lips. You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly decided against it. Hey, if he accidentally missed a turn or two and it ended up extending the amount of time it took for you to get home, how could it be a bad thing? You leaned back with a subtle smirk on your face as he drove down a route that would undoubtedly add at least a day to the trip if he didn't notice his mistake in time.

The sun rose higher in the sky and more traffic joined you on the road, albeit still sparse. By the hour, Trevor grew more and more tired-looking. While you were sitting in the back and drinking a beer, you felt the camper suddenly pull over and come to a stop. You raised your brow and looked up front to see Trevor leaning back in his seat like a dead person. Worry instantly shot through you and you ran up to the seat, examining him. He jumped at your sudden presence and looked over to you with half-lidded eyes. So he was still alive, then.

"Don't fuckin' startle me like that.." He mumbled, closing his eyes again. "I just need a break.. Don't you go running off.." He grumbled, voice tired and soft. Something told you that if you had run off, he wouldn't be able to stop you anyway.

"... I won't. I don't have anywhere to go, remember?" You sat in the passenger's seat to keep an eye on him. It seemed like he was finally crashing. 

"Mm.." Was his simple response. He seemed to doze off in a few minutes and 15 minutes later, he awoke with a sudden gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. You whipped your head over in concern. He took a few moments to calm down, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He'd had a nightmare. "I need another fucking hit.." He spoke as he stood up, making his way to his pipe. This time, you were the one grabbing his arm and stopping him. He looked at you, slightly irritated but still weary.

"Maybe you should cut back a little, Trev. I really don't think you should be driving like this," You suggested. Instead of pulling away and smoking anyway like you expected, Trevor stared down at you, searching your face. 

He shook his head and closed his eyes, "No. No, I can't drive like this either, I need to get high," He replied as if more to convince himself than you.

"I can drive," You blurted, making Trevor squint at you.

"Yeah. Right." His tone was sarcastic.

"Seriously, I don't trust you driving this bigass thing all tweaked out like this."

"I have absolutely no reason to believe you'd want to personally escort yourself back after you've given me so much trouble." Trevor frowned.

"I don't have any other options! Trust me, I just want this to be over with."

Trevor was secretly hurt again by your words. You wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible.

"What's stopping you from just ditching me now and moving away.." He muttered under his breath, looking to the ground.

"I don't wanna do that…" You said softly, Trevor's gaze quickly shot back up to you in slight surprise. "I like Sandy Shores.. And it's more trouble than what it's worth anyways," You admitted. Despite having felt like shit all morning, your words brought Trevor some respite. It was those small glimpses of light at the end of the tunnel that kept him going. 

"So.. When all this is over, you're gonna stay..?" He asked cautiously.

"I guess that's the plan. But only  _ if _ everything goes right, which obviously won't happen if you get us into an accident. Go take a nap or something and I'll keep on driving." 

"You said you'd never speak to me again."

"I was angry, and I still sort of am, but I didn't really mean it.." You admitted.

His world felt good for a good moment and he felt he actually had the will to try and cut back a little.. For your sake. He'd only been going so hard because of the anxiety of you leaving anyway. To hear those simple words of affirmation was a huge weight off his chest. 

"Yeah.. Yeah, okay.." He mumbled. You nodded and finally let go of his arm, swapping sides and sitting in the driver's seat. Instead of going to the back, Trevor nestled up in the passenger's seat next to you and reclined. You assumed that he still wanted to keep an eye on you but in reality he just wanted to be close by.

You restarted the camper and got it going again, the huge vehicle was definitely heavier than what you were used to, but you'd had experience here and there driving big cars in the past. You got the hang of it eventually. Admittedly, your offer to drive had a catch. Things were shifting back into your control again. Within 30 minutes, Trevor was out like a light. You looked at the road and let out a sigh. You were going to purposefully miss turns and go the wrong way while he slept. Maybe it was immature, you were only delaying the inevitable, but any amount of control you could have, you would take.

\--

Hours passed by and you were surprised to find the time spent with Trevor napping by your side was oddly comfortable. You'd steal glances every now and then as he snored, admiring how peaceful he looked despite being smooshed up against the window. However, he wasn't always so peaceful. You'd counted 2 separate times already that he'd woken up with a start from nightmares. He'd always look at you immediately after he woke up, then go back to sleep after calming down. You felt bad for him, you knew exactly how terrible being plagued by nightmares was. You could only wonder what he was dreaming about.

The RV was temporarily stopped so you could use the bathroom. As you walked out, Trevor was tossing in his sleep again. You jogged over, ready to wake him up, but you paused when you got near. He was saying something.

".. Not gonna.. Leave.. Mikey.." His face contorted and cringed. You frowned. You remember he mentioned Michael faking his death and all, you hadn't realized just how much it really affected him.

"Trev.." You gently shook his shoulder and he jumped awake again, gasping. 

"Cocksuckers!!" He yelled, his eyes searched the area frantically until they rested on you and immediately softened. "Fuck.. Again?.. I need to smoke or fuckin' pop something, fuck!" He rubbed his face in frustration. 

"I know it sucks.." You said, at a loss for what else to do. You weren't going to tell him to stop outright cause that was going to be nothing but trouble and you also knew you couldn't tell Trevor what to do when his mind was already set. If the man wanted to smoke, he was going to smoke. You sat on the driver's seat and without much thought you put your hand over his in a comforting manner. It was the only thing you could think to do. He quickly laced his fingers through yours and held it firmly, locking eyes with you.

"... I might just be able to go back to sleep like this.." He commented, lips curling up. He was trying to tease you, but his tone came out more soft than anything. Heat began to rise to your face. 

"Well uh I-I still have to drive, Trev.." You spoke quickly and a little too defensively. You felt bad afterwards when his smile dropped. Shit, it wasn't supposed to come out like that. You actually enjoyed it, but you were so used to having your walls up you couldn't even comfort people properly. Stupid…

Both of you sat in silence like that for a few more moments before Trevor's face lit up as if he realized something. "Fuck, that's right.." He stood up and released your hand, shuffling towards the back of the camper. You watched him curiously.

"What is it?" You asked. He reappeared in the doorway of the room shortly with a pill bottle in his hands. Your eyes widened a bit as he hastily opened it and popped one of the mystery tablets dry. He sauntered back up to the front looking more pleased than before and plopped down in the chair, letting out a sigh. "That should help," He commented.

"What was that??" Concern seeped into your voice more than you cared to notice.

"Just a bit of Valium, calm down. Helps me when this happens.." He explained.

"Oh.. Okay.." Well it wasn't as bad as you thought. Trevor seemed like he was still on board with the idea of coming down. As you restarted the RV, you got a little sad as you realized this sort of thing happened often enough for Trevor to be prepared for it. 

Once again, he fell asleep and left you in silence for another hour until the sun began to set. The sky was a beautiful shade of orange and pink, stray beams of light passed through the trees on each side of the road. It was time to call it a day and find something to eat for dinner. You pulled the camper into a nook in the trees along the side of the road and shut it off, standing and stretching your legs. Trevor snored loudly to your left and you laughed a bit, looking back over to his peaceful face. The brief sensation of his hand interlocked with yours flashed through your head again, making you a little flustered. For such a simple action, it felt huge. You rubbed your face in frustration. Jeez, you felt like you were in highschool again with this stupid little crush of yours. You were being way too forgiving with this man, but you couldn't help it. It'd been so long since anyone else knew you like he did. In fact, since you'd "died", Trevor was the closest person to you.

You shuffled to the back and opened another beer, popping the cap off on the counter and then rummaging through the food from the gas station. The sound of plastic stirred Trevor awake and he peeked back at you. "I'm fuckin' hungry.." He mumbled, getting up lethargically and making his way next to you on the little RV sofa you were on. He plucked the bag of chips you were holding out of your hand and you frowned.

"Thanks for asking," You said sarcastically.

"Sharing is caring." He spoke with a full mouth. You grabbed some gummy worms and sat in an awkward silence, trying to think of something to say.

".. Are you feeling okay?" You eventually asked.

"Never. But I guess I could be worse.. I just want someone to eat-" He shook his head slightly, "Er, something. Something to eat." 

You chuckled lightly. "Well there's a bunch of stuff from the gas station."

"Arrggh, it's not enough. We need to stop somewhere. Fuck, I feel like I could eat an entire horse, and I haven't done that since the 90s."

You lit up at the idea of more fast food. "I'll see if something's close, gimme my phone," You said eagerly, holding out your hand. Trevor eyed you for a moment before giving in and taking your phone out of his pocket and slapping it on your palm. You unlocked it and went to the GPS, trying to find the nearest diner. Trevor nosily leaned in to watch what you were typing. "There's one only a few miles from here, lucky us. D's Diner. Wanna go?" You looked over to him.

"Yeah fuck it, sure." He shrugged. Just as you were about to get up, you paused.

"Oh, Michael texted me.." You said quietly. It was almost too quiet to hear, but Trevor caught it and immediately frowned. He peeped over your shoulder to see what Michael had sent. He was just barely able to make out the words on the screen.

_ 'Hows the trip going? Or did you end up leaving? Wouldnt be surprised.'  _

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to reply. You typed out multiple responses, deleting each one before sighing and turning off your phone. You'd reply later. All you could worry about was food. You put it back in your pocket and returned to the wheel, starting up the engine once more.

Familiar jealousy bubbled up within Trevor as the camper began to move again. What did Michael have that he didn't? He was the realest guy he knew. Michael was nothing but a fat phony turd. Surely you had better taste?

His eyes slowly wandered along the interior, spying all the trash strewn about and pipe still sitting on the counter. Sudden depression kicked in. Maybe Michael  _ was _ better for you.

Trevor stood up slowly.

You had more to relate with him about. With Trevor, your walls were always up. You saw him as a threat, just like everyone else did. You didn't really trust him, you'd said it yourself.

He shuffled over to the counter.

Plus, you wouldn't have to take care of Michael like some child. Trevor knew he was a burden to everyone he knew, that's why they always left him, even his own father..

Trevor picked up his pipe and looked around for his lighter. Just one hit would make him feel better, just like it always did. 

"Trevor! Give it a rest!" Your voice was like a slap in the face, making him jump. He didn't realize you were watching him in the rearview. He stared at you for a moment, still stuck in the middle of a decision. "Come sit up here with me. Just take a break for tonight." You continued to nag him further. His brows furrowed, but he eventually gave in and set down the pipe, trudging to the front and sitting with you. 

"I hope you're not gonna try to make me fuckin' quit all of the sudden, because let me tell you, it's  _ not  _ gonna work. Me and the crystal? We're one," He scolded. 

"God, no. I'm not stupid. I just want you to try and stop going so hard like you have been lately. I know the stuff is like a vitamin to you at this point, but too much of anything can mess you up. Besides, I like you how you are, I don't need you going all crazy with withdrawals on me. I've got enough on my plate with all this shit," You said. Trevor gawked at you with wide eyes. With just a simple phrase, you alleviated so much of the pain he was feeling.

"Say it again," He blurted out.

"What?"

"Say it, you like me the way I am, say it again," He said. Your face turned a bit pink. You realized how gushy your wording had been, but you genuinely did mean it. You weren't trying to sugarcoat anything, so it just came out naturally. 

"Well I mean- it's true. I do like you the way you are.. Even if you're more than a fucking handful sometimes," You replied, occasionally stumbling over your words. Trevor went silent. You glanced over and saw him staring out the window with a satisfied smile upon his face. It helped to ease your embarrassment as you realized that people must not have said that to him very much. In that light, it made you feel good to know that you could make such a grumpy and rough man smile so endearingly. 

The diner was a quick drive. You parked the camper out front and turned everything off, giddy to eat a big dinner. Trevor took a while to stand from his seat due to his fatigue. It was bizarre seeing him with such low-energy when he was usually like a firework, launching off into the sky and exploding in a huge dazzling display.

"Hey, if you want I can just get stuff to go and bring it back here. You look like you'd fall asleep at the table," You said.

"Nonsense! I'm fuckin' fine." Trevor frowned. "You don't need to treat me like a baby," He added under his breath.

"Well okay, how about you stay here and take a shower while I get the food then. Sound better? You can actually do something." 

"My stink is part of my charm," Trevor replied defensively. ".. But maybe if you gave me a sponge bath.." His voice trailed off and he raised his eyebrows suggestively. 

You rolled your eyes. "I thought you didn't want me to baby you." 

"That's different! It's sexy!" 

"Feels more like nursing home roleplay," you commented.

"Hey! What's that supposed to fuckin' mean?!" Trevor's fist balled up.

"It means take a fucking shower you smelly bastard! Now what do you want to eat?"

"I don't care, get me something big." He waved his hand lazily at you. 

"Alright." You walked to the door and stopped as your eyes caught Trevor's pipe. You turned to him and he could sense your apprehension. "Can I trust you to keep up your break?" You asked, obviously referencing the drugs. Trevor's heart sped.

"You can trust me," He said quickly. No quips or weird remarks, he looked oddly serious when he spoke.

"... Aaalright. I'll be back in a bit." You swiftly exited the camper and took a big breath of the fresh night air. It was the first time you'd been away from Trevor in nearly two days at that point. You entered the diner, it's bright neon signs buzzing loudly above the door and walked to the front, ordering some food to go.

Trevor sat in the camper, having a staring contest with the pipe on the counter. It was just a simple break. He wasn't that weak-willed, was he? Fuck no! He was Trevor Philips, damn it. He didn't let anyone or anything control him, not even crystal. He couldn't mess this up, it was the one thing he cared about getting right. He couldn't betray your trust. It was just a little break. He had other substances to keep him occupied.

Trevor twisted the cap off of a beer bottle and shuffled into the bathroom, glaring at the shower. Maybe the warm water would feel nice. Damn it, you were going to be the death of him. He twisted the nozzle and quickly stripped down while still drinking. 

You sat at an empty booth in the diner, scrolling through your phone. The food was taking a while to be prepared, you'd been sitting there for about 15 minutes alone with your thoughts. Nothing interesting was happening back in LS and no one had contacted you except for Michael, who you still couldn't think of a reply too. It dawned upon you just how lonely you had really been. Hell, if you'd died in Sandy Shores, no one would have batted an eye before you met Trev. You'd just be another dead redneck out in the middle of nowhere.

"Order 77, sugar. Food's ready!" The waitress called from the front, placing all the bagged goods on the table. You smiled and retrieved everything, leaving her a generous tip before walking back out to the camper. It took two large bags to contain everything you got. Not only did you get a big ass burger for Trevor, but you'd gotten enough to ensure you'd have leftovers for at least a day or two.

While walking back to the camper, you froze in the parking lot, staring at the huge vehicle in the dark. It'd be easy to run. There was still a chance to avoid everything.

You stomped the thought out in your head as soon as it came, continuing your walk. You had to stop thinking like that now, it was doing you no good. Besides, you had to look after Trevor.

… Woah, what? You squinted weirdly at your own thoughts. Since when did that thought process arise? He wasn't your responsibility and he was the reason you were in this entire shitshow. He was your boss, for fuck's sake.

.. Still, you had to admit it felt good deep down to make him smile. Whatever you could do to distract yourself from your destination worked, you supposed. However contradictory it was.

"I got the grub!" You kicked open the door and looked around. You could hear the shower running on the other end of the RV. You were shocked Trevor had actually listened to you. Your eyes wandered to the pipe. It looked completely untouched. Some heat rose to your cheeks and you set all the food down. "Trevor, I- Oh goddamn it!" You quickly looked away in embarrassment as you walked up to the bathroom. He hadn't shut the door and you got a clear look at his muscular back and bare ass. "Do you know how to shut a fucking door?!" You scolded, covering your eyes and shutting the accordion door for him.

"Come on, don't pretend you don't like it! We're in close quarters now. Gotta get comfortable with each other!" Trevor replied from the other side. More heat rose across your entire upper body, face getting redder. The fresh image of his nude body kept flashing in your head over and over. Well, you certainly weren't expecting to see that but you couldn't fully say it wasn't a welcome surprise.

"Just don't expect me to keep the doors open too!" You quickly walked over to the sofa, still in a slight state of shock. Trevor finished up his shower quickly and walked out in only his jeans, immediately making a beeline for the food before even looking at you. He hadn't even bothered to completely dry off, stray water droplets were still sprinkled along his back and shoulders. "Ok, now you're just taking advantage of it." You frowned, pulling your own burger from it's wrapper. 

He gingerly took a seat next to you, unwrapping his food. "Mm, good ol' American truck stop food," He took a large bite, swallowing it inhumanely quick. "Y'know, kind of reminds me of the old days when me n' Mikey would live off this stuff," He commented, taking another big bite. 

"Really?" You looked over to him. Your eyes had trouble staying on his face, often flickering down to his arms, still slightly slick with water.

"Oh yeah. Never had enough money to go to any of the five star places, not that there were that many to begin with.."

"I can kind of relate. I used to live off liquor store food for solid weeks at a time."

"Weeks? Did your family make shit dinners or something?" Trevor laughed a little.

"I got kicked out a lot so I kind of missed out on a lot of them.. Soo.." You replied awkwardly.

"Oh." 

"Yeah, but it wasn't that bad. At least I always had a friend's couch to crash on.." You recalled with a bittersweet tone. 

"You'll have to show me some of your old playing grounds, give me the special Redwood tour." Trevor crinkled up the burger wrapper and dove back into the bags, looking for something else to eat. 

"Yeah… Maybe.. I don't know.." You mumbled. 

"Come onnn, you gotta have some special places back there." He nudged you with his elbow, opening up a container with a sandwich in it. 

"I do, but everything seems tainted now.. I don't know Trev.. Honestly, I'm having trouble getting hyped up to go back.. I don't think my folks will be too happy to see me," You admitted.

"What?! That's bullshit. Listen, shit might have been tough with them, but have you read your obituary?" Trevor popped a fry in his mouth.

"... Actually no. I sort of tried to forget about everything as soon as I left. Was it good?.." You asked hesitantly.

"Hey, you can easily find it yourself. Your family had nothing but nice things to say. You're fuckin' lucky you have parents who like you." Trevor shrugged. Your heart was filled with a little more confidence after hearing that. Things had always been tense with your family ever since they figured out the type of life you led. Trevor's words gave you the small flecks of hope you needed to stop dreading your return so badly. Maybe things could work out?

"What kind of problems did you have with your folks anyways?" asked Trevor. Well, it was certainly a bold question, but screw it, you were going to be in close quarters with him for the foreseeable future, might as well let loose. 

"I guess your run-of-the-mill stuff. They wanted me to follow in their footsteps and go into the medical field, instead I dropped out of school early on and became a criminal. Most of the time I spent around them, they were disappointed in me."

"Shit, doctors make a lot of money."

"Yeah well I like driving fast more than studying all that crap apparently," you joked. 

"No shit. I bet if they saw you drivin' they'd change their minds on what path is right for you," Trevor commented, making you blush. It'd been a while since someone encouraged you like that.

"Ah, I don't know.. I don't think any amount of stunts and tricks would ever convince them after.." your voice trailed off, but Trevor took the hint. You were referencing the accident. 

Both of you shared a tender silence, lost in your own individual memories. After a moment, Trevor spoke up. "... My dad abandoned me in a shopping mall." The statement was brief and casual, as if he were making small talk about the weather outside. You raised your brows and looked over in slight shock.

"Jesus, Trev.. I'm sorry," You replied, unsure of how to handle the information. Oddly, his lips curled up and shook his head. 

"Fuck me, I get all weird when I crash. Doesn't matter anyway. I burned the fuckin' place down." He shrugged, taking a swig of his beer then throwing the empty bottle across the RV. You stared at your food, thinking things over. Trevor was easy to talk to and that meant sometimes the territory got dark too quickly. Time to change the subject. 

Looking around for things to talk about, your eyes rested on his hands. You felt compelled to hold them again just for the simple reason that it felt nice. "Why'd you get 'fuck you' tattooed on your knuckles?" You nodded to his hands. He lazily held them up to his face and spun them around a few times.

"I don't really remember. I was an angry kid. I got them while I was on a bender. Fuck, I got most of the shit that's tattooed on me while on benders," he then patted his right shoulder where the R.I.P. Michael tattoo was, "except for this one of course. I was too sober for this one." 

"I'm sorry,  _ were  _ an angry kid? You're not exactly the pinnacle of inner-peace now," You chuckled.

"Well I get angry, but all my anger is fuckin' justified!" He huffed, lightly pounding his fist into the cushion. "I get just as angry as everyone else, only difference is I'm not a pussy and I'm not afraid to show it!" He added proudly.

"Oo-kay, Trev. Whatever you say." You laughed and shook your head, standing up to throw away your trash. 

"You know, the one thing I hope you can learn from me on this short trip is how to stop being such a phony and show what you're truly feeling, who you really are," said Trevor. You furrowed your brows a little and turned to him. 

"How about I exercise that a little right now? You piss me off when you call me a phony. I think I'm justified to be the way I am." You frowned. 

"Mm, good start, but it doesn't mean I'm gonna stop." He shrugged. "Lesson number two," Trevor held up three fingers, "always stick to your guns," he said smugly. 

"Ugh.." You rolled your eyes, dropping the conversation. You weren't going to let him rile you up again. "I'm going to try and go to bed. Goodnight." You walked to the room and Trevor got up, quickly following you. 

"I'll join. I'm feelin' tired again anyways." He said. Both of you climbed into your respective bunks after switching the lights off and a somewhat awkward silence set in. For some reason you felt oddly self-aware of every little noise you made when you shifted, the sheets rustling, the mattress creaking, even the noises Trevor made down below. You couldn't entirely explain it, but it felt almost hollow, a weird far-off sense of loneliness despite only being a few feet away from someone. You simply chalked it up to being too excited by seeing Trevor half-naked and wanting to touch him.

Trevor fell asleep rather quickly again and you decided to take out your phone to distract yourself. His earlier words lingered in your head. Hesitantly, your fingers took to the screen and you typed in the Eyefind search bar:

_ "redwood, SA obituary (y/n) (l/n)" _

__ Your heart began to thud as the first option that showed up was indeed the obituary written for you. You looked at it intensely for a few moments before gaining the courage to click on it. 

It was surreal to see a photo of yourself staring back at you knowing that it was supposed to be the photo of a dead woman. The obituary started with the typical stuff, your age, the date you "died" and how. It was when you neared the bottom that your insides began to twist and turn. 

Your parents never spoke that highly of you when you were alive. They'd never acknowledged your hobbies and interests as valid outside of what they approved appropriate. They'd certainly never sounded so forgiving, yet as you read on, they hoped that whatever lay ahead of you would show you mercy. Tears filled your eyes. Maybe your "death" had gotten through to them somehow. You didn't even know they wrote an obituary for you until Trevor mentioned it. You'd always assumed they'd just try to put you behind them, being the black sheep of the family and all. But now it seemed like they really did care, despite all their past actions. You were still scared shitless of returning, but maybe there  _ was _ an itty bitty shred of hope that things might not completely blow up in your face. Maybe they would be happy to know you were clean now, trying your best to be better.

You kept on rereading certain segments, fixating on specific phrases and words they'd written, when all of the sudden below you, you heard Trevor whimpering. You squinted in confusion and checked the time. It'd only been 30 minutes. You carefully leaned over the railing as the noises went on and saw him lying on his back, shaking and crying in his sleep. You threw your phone to the side and quickly climbed down, reaching over to him in worry. 

"Trev?.." You called out softly, wondering if he was truly asleep or not. He didn't seem to hear you. His face cringed and he let out a sob, making you recoil a bit. No tears came from his eyes. "Woah.. Hey.." You nudged his shoulder a few times, "Trevor wake up.." He didn't respond right away, instead he began to toss a little bit, suddenly whipping his head to the side. "Trevor!" You pushed on his shoulder with more force.

He inhaled sharply, slowly blinking open his eyes, face returning to normal. "Fuck.." He spat out, hastily wiping away the tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He looked over to you, his expression was more troubled than you'd ever seen it. 

"Are you okay?" You asked quickly. 

"I'm fine. I'll be okay." He looked away, a slight bitterness about his demeanor.

"... Do you want to talk about it?.. Sometimes it helps me to get it off my chest right away.." You offered. Trevor seemed to weigh it out in his head, brows knitting together.

"It's nothing.. Just.. Fucking Mikey.. That bastard lying piece of shit.. I saw him die right in front of me, you know? Or so I fucking thought. I still don't know what to believe," He seethed, clenching his fists. You raised your brows. You didn't know it was that bad. You knew exactly how that felt to see your best friends die right in front of you.

"I'm sorry.." You knelt down beside him and cupped his fist with both of your hands. The action seemed to calm him down a little. Once again, he wrapped his fingers through yours almost immediately. 

"I mourned him.. I fucking mourned him.." He repeated quietly, voice getting softer as he focused on your touch. Eventually, he got quiet and shut his eyes. You were about to pull away when he spoke up. "Stay here with me.. I.. Feel better when someone is close." His voice was no more than a tired mumble.

"S-Sure.. Okay.. Yeah, okay.." You looked around the room, spotting two folding chairs in the corner. "Here." You stood up and as soon as you disconnected from Trevor, his eyes shot open and he flinched. You unfolded the chair next to his mattress and got it as close as you could. "Is this okay?" You asked.

"Yeah.. Yeah I guess.. Thanks." His reply sounded half-hearted but still grateful. You watched him for a moment before slowly holding out your hand to him. He grabbed it and you saw the faint ghost of a smile spread across his face. He lied there, dozing off again as you sat next to him holding his hand and watching him attentively. You weren't sure how long you were going to have to sit there like that, but you didn't care because you finally understood. 

You understood why he couldn't take you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda wanted to upload near Christmas, teehee. I also wanted to explore the consequence of smoking meth all the time like Trevor does, as we never get to really see him crash, he's always at a high. I think the meth has a LOT to do with how agressive and energetic T is, and even though he was probably like that even before using, I believe the drugs upped that tenfold, so it was fun to write. More to come as always, I promise more fluff upcomin as well. Thanks for reading, have haply holidays and a Merry Christmas!!!


	11. Redwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor figures out your scheme and you find yourself back on the fast track to Redwood. However, Trevor falls back into his old vices and things go a little sideways just before you make it to the city...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME GORY SCENES WRITTEN IN IT. It's not entirely essential to read and if you want to skip it, I will be putting "####" in bold before and after the scene so you can find where it begins and ends :)* Long-ass chapter! Grab a snack! :D

The sound of rain pattering against the roof woke you up. You sluggishly looked around the room in a daze, the area bathed in a deep blue from the early morning sunrise. God, your neck hurt. 

Well, you were awake now. Time for an early morning start. You tried to get up when you realized the heavy warm feeling on your arm. As you looked over, heat spread across your face. Trevor had just about crawled up your arm, holding your hand close to him like a teddy-bear, sleeping more peacefully than you'd ever seen him. Even in his sleep, he held onto you as if his life depended on it. You couldn't help but stare. This was a side of him you'd never seen. "Cuddly" was the last word you'd use to describe Trevor Philips, yet there the man was, looking like the dictionary definition. 

Having just woken up, you were in no state of mind to deny your feelings. You liked it. Okay, you  _ really _ liked it. But he was still technically your boss, you recalled. You made a promise not to get involved with business partners.. Even though due to the circumstances, it was pretty fucking hard to call him your "boss" anymore. Just what exactly was going on? It was getting harder and harder to find excuses to cling onto. And that was scary.

Carefully, you slid your hand out of his grasp, moving a few centimeters every few moments so he wouldn't wake up. Comforting him and taking care of him like you had been was already walking a tightrope, but you knew this time wasn't simply comfort. You really liked Trevor, against all reason you still had ridiculous feelings for him. Now really wasn't the appropriate time to start getting closer to him like that.

You stood up and tiptoed to the bathroom, hoping Trevor wouldn't wake in your absence. Today was another day of driving down the wrong roads while Trevor was none the wiser. Of course he'd probably piece it together eventually, but you were going to milk it as much as you could. 

As you walked up to the front, you looked out of the windshield and saw the slick wet parking lot reflecting the vibrant lights outside, rain falling all around. It was a pretty sight, but driving in it would be a little unsettling. You sighed and plopped down in the seat, still wiping the crust out of your eyes and starting up the engine. You pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the dark road, completely devoid of all traffic aside from you. Suddenly, you felt very lonely. It felt like whiplash to go from being nuzzled by Trevor to driving through the cold rain. 

Speak of the devil, Trevor slumped down in the seat next to you, giving you a slight start. "Morning," You said softly, secretly grateful for his sudden appearance. It was as if he could read your mind.

"Engine woke me up. What time is it? Too fuckin' early to be driving.." He muttered, curling up in the seat in a rather relaxed position. Was he going to fall asleep again…?

"Probably around 5 AM. Sorry I woke you.." You replied softly. 

"Mm.. Whatever.." Trevor shut his eyes and like that he was dozing off again. What was the point of moving all the way from the back to the front if he was just going to fall asleep again? A blush then spread to your face in realization. He probably just wanted to be close to you. Now knowing his weirdly affectionate side, everything was beginning to make a lot more sense. Shit, you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying his presence more and more during the times of mind numbing driving. 

\--

Non-stop rain all day. That's what the weather app on your phone said. You drove for a few hours before stopping to take a breakfast break. Trevor had woken up by then and was eating like a pig. You were thankful to see by mid-afternoon he was acting more like himself. Less lethargic, slightly more energetic, but still not quite the firecracker you knew. Now fully awake, he mostly sat at the dinette in the back messing with his pistol, disassembling it and reassembling it, most likely to keep his head busy. Somehow, he still didn't notice how oddly long it was taking to get to Redwood. 

Come evening, after a non-eventful lunch break and hours of brain melting driving, you were beyond ready to call it another night.

As you walked down the hall rubbing your aching eyes, Trevor's voice stopped you.

"Hey." He whistled and you turned your head to see him leaning against the counter. You nodded your head in response. "Y'know, I wasn't in the best of states.. Mind was jumbled.. But now that I'm clearing up, I'm startin' to realize it's taking an awfully long time to get to Redwood. Should've only taken us a day, two at most." He crossed his arms. 

You froze up, mentally preparing for the worst. Damn it, everything had been going so smooth too.. 

"Fuck.. Maybe the routes-"

"I already know we're off course, sugar. You can drop the lies." Trevor sounded stern and upset.

"God damn it. I  _ was  _ gonna get us there eventually. I swear. I was just.. Taking scenic routes." You shrugged weakly, knowing full well he caught you red-handed. But you weren't exactly lying either. 

"How long is it gonna take us now?" He asked in slight irritation. 

"Well if we start going straight back first thing tomorrow… We could maybe get there late at night.." You admitted. 

"Great. I'm drivin'," he pushed himself off the counter. "I don't like people playing with me. You said you'd get us there. I trusted you to handle it."

"Damn it, I was!.. Eventually!.. Ugh, fuck off Trevor. This whole thing isn't exactly easy on me." You turned away with a huff, feeling irritated again. 

"After all I've told you, what doubts could you possibly still have?!" He spread his arms out wide, circling around you so that he would face you directly. 

You refused to meet his wide, crazed eyes. "Serious shit happened back there! The wound's still healing. I let all my friends down.." Your voice quieted, growing more solemn. Trevor was silent for a moment, staring you down. 

"No. You know how you let 'em down? By becoming whatever the fuck it is you are. Too scared to go back to your roots." Trevor crossed his arms.

"I'm not fucking scared!" You snapped, although it was not directed so much at Trevor as it was yourself. 

"Then prove it!  _ You,"  _ He stuck his finger in your face, forcing you to look up to him, "are gonna drive us up to Redwood tomorrow. All the way, while I sit and watch." 

You frowned, tempted to bite his finger because of the annoying way it sat between your eyes. "... I've already been fucking doing that.." You muttered, moving to push past him into the bedroom. 

"Well sure, but it's a piss-poor job." He commented, watching you duck under his arms into the doorway behind him. He made no further moves to stop you, his point had been made. As much as he didn’t want the trip to end, this was about keeping your word. Trevor didn’t like being lied to, even if this particular lie benefitted him a little too. He had to admit, you were slowly opening up. You were dropping your filters around him and saying what you wanted to say. And sometimes it was absolutely obnoxious and infuriating, but another part of him was even more attracted to you for it. The thought of someone who could stand up to him excited him. 

Both of you got in your bunks, no more words to be shared for the night. As you nestled in your covers, you thought about Trevor's words in irritation. It didn't take long for him to spring back into the demanding, stubborn jackass that you knew. You were tempted to say you missed the softer version of him when he was crashing, but you knew that was not a fun state for him to be in. You turned, getting into a more comfortable position. Either way, you still liked Trevor for who he was at the end of the day. Throughout working heists with him and the short time spent together travelling, he pushed you, he challenged you to do things and think in ways that could boost you forward. Lately, you'd been more open, more connected to the way you were in the past, brash, sarcastic, unruly, and an appetite for adrenaline. It was nerve wracking, the things this man got you to do. 

Tonight's statement stuck with you.  _ "You're letting them down by turning into whatever the fuck it is you are."  _

Fuck. He was right once again. Your partners, Layne, John, Sierra.. They never wanted a vanilla life for you, unlike your parents. They knew exactly where you flourished, and just how to push you to be the best you could be. Sappy shit, but it was true. They never would have wanted you to be in the position you were in, afraid to be in the game because of a stupid accident in the past. You scoffed a little. It was if you could almost hear your old crewmate's voices in your head, encouraging you and the typical way they'd shrug things off if something bad happened to them. They'd probably tell you just how it wasn't your fault, and how you needed to move on and keep doing what you love.

Tears that you hadn't noticed forming fell off your cheeks. You quickly wiped them and took a deep breath, listening down below. Trevor was still awake and bouncing his foot off the edge of the mattress. God he was rage-inducing, but you were still thankful for him in a weird way. No one else would have done this for you. Of course you knew he was doing this for his own selfish reasons, but on the way he kept sprinkling in subtle messages, lessons to be learned. He challenged you, and you were grateful for that. No one else would have cared enough, nor noticed. They would have just let you sink into that grave you were digging for yourself back in Sandy Shores. The death of the old (y/n) to be replaced with some weird uncanny silicon model that vaguely resembled her.

While you weren't still completely on board, you were definitely a far way away from that fake version of you that would have taken over had Trevor not seen it for what it was.

You shut your eyes, mixed feelings of frustration and satisfaction swirling around in your head until you finally fell into a restless slumber about 30 minutes later. 

You were still scared though. That part couldn't be altered. The nightmares made that evident.

**####**

**####**

You hung upside-down in the wrecked red car, sucking in uneven and rough breaths. You wanted to make a whole array of noises, but only a hoarse whimper could come out, followed by a sob as you looked to your left and saw Layne hanging upside down from his seat, blood pouring from the mess where his arm used to be. Reality further set in, everything felt so wet, hot, and gushy. Sierra was launched a short ways from the car, her face wasn't recognizable anymore, neither the directions her limbs were facing. You scrambled with your seatbelt, falling with a painful and loud thud on the roof of the car. John was dead on impact in the back. The car had crushed him on its many rolls down the side of the cliff. You hated how you could recall with excruciating vividness the stray eyeball that hung from between some of the sharp bent metal that encapsulated him. You had to crawl your way out through searing hot metal and broken glass, black smoke filling your lungs as if there was nothing else to breathe other than the reek of burnt skin and car chemicals. Many of your bones were broken, you knew this from how hard it was to barely scrape yourself along the mud outside. It stung so bad when the dirt found its way into your fresh red wounds. You remembered the disorientating panic of trying to crawl towards the woods, still not entirely sure if your friends were alive, but only knowing the instinct that you needed to  _ escape. _ It was your one job, the one thing you had to see through on that mission and the only thing you knew how to do as a driver.

The heat of the car wreck slowly accumulated distance from your backside, and suddenly you were in the cold surrounding forest, completely sheltered by trees and nature, bleeding out into the dirt and dead leaves. All you could feel was the raw dread and panic manifesting itself into your core as you looked back to the black smoke clouds billowing away in the evening sky. They mixed with the multitude of sirens and helicopters, red and blue flashing lights getting more intense the more time passed. The scenery faded away into a black-ish haze, and all you felt was that fresh fear and shock, forming and squeezing into your core, replacing whatever else had been there previously, becoming so overwhelming you felt you were about to burst at any second. 

**####**

**####**

You shot up screaming, making all the noises that you'd wanted to make earlier in the dream. Messy tears soaked your face and your breathing was erratic and you took in your new surroundings, fight or flight still rampant in your system. Trevor was by your side quickly, his hands grasped your flailing ones tightly.

"Hey. Nightmare. Just another nightmare." He reassured in his low and gruff voice. You nodded and took a deep breath, shaking your head. Reality began to make sense again, time slowed down and things finally sat still. Eventually, you looked back over to Trevor. 

"... Was it the accident?" He asked. You nodded quietly at the comment. "Mm.." He looked away towards the ground as if in thought. You stayed that way, thankful for the comfort and distraction Trevor's presence brought you. He was surprised at the amount of time you allowed him to hold onto you. He was expecting you to pull away as soon as you regained some sense. Instead you were silent for a while, looking at the tangled sheets and thinking. Eventually, you spoke up.

"I think.. You were right.." You started slowly, tiredly. Trevor raised a brow. "They would have wanted me to move on, not worry about their deaths.. I thought about it before, but it's only now just clicking.." You exhaled a shaky sigh, "But knowing it doesn't fucking make it easier. I'm still scared... It's my greatest failure. My biggest regret. Anything good about the place just fucking disappears when I remember it."

Trevor was silent for a good minute, he was unsure of how to handle delicate situations and emotions despite being no stranger to them. "Uh.. Y'know.." He started, grabbing your attention, "Sometimes I feel the same way.. When I think about.. Back when I was with Mikey.." He paused, looking like he was struggling to choose the right words, "Um, what helps me calm down sometimes other than going on  _ completely _ justifiable rampages is to try and really focus on the good memories. What little there were. Helps me forget about what a fool I was." He shrugged. "A-And I know it's only temporary, but it at least helps ya get sleep for a night," He added quickly. You stared at his figure in the dark for a good few moments. There he went showing his sensitive side again and making you feel all conflicted. You fixated on the sensation of warmth his hands created. Warm and safe. Fuck, were you really about to ask for this right now?

Fuck it, it was just for the night.

"Maybe… Probably.. Fuck, I can't think right now.. I just.. Feel better when someone is around.." You admitted slowly, mirroring his words from the night before. Trevor's brows shot up. You gave a gentle tug on his hands then spoke, "Can you stay up here just for the night? These fucking nightmares just.."

"O-Oh.. Sure.." Trevor faltered for a moment before slowly and cautiously climbing up and taking up an extra spot in your bed. You lied down next to each other, a somewhat safe distance apart before you sucked it up and closed the gap, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping a loose arm around him. Trevor tensed up, completely unexpectant of the sudden physical contact from you of all people, but quickly melted into it. "No funny business, ok? I just need to sleep.. Seriously." You demanded.

"Course, sweetheart. Ya got my word. Tonight I can just be your Trevvy bear." He teased, unable to keep a serious tone. You rolled your eyes, almost regretting the decision if not for the fact of how nice it felt. You spun around, getting into the little spoon position. Trevor wrapped himself around you rather comfortably, and for a moment you felt like you were always meant to fit in his arms.

After a moment of adjusting to the new situation, you quickly found yourself falling asleep again, this time no worries and anxiety plaguing your mind, only the warm sensation of safety that another body allowed.

Truth was, Trevor was able to sleep easier like this as well. As he smelled your hair and held your hands, closer than he'd ever been with you, his heart felt about ready to burst from his ribs. He had to keep berating himself, remind himself that this was for comfort, just the same way he used to do with Michael back in the day. No love would ever form there. No, you liked Michael, and that was that. For now, Trevor was just a tool. A tool to help you sleep better.

Like that, Trevor was able to restrain the beasts that were his ever swarming emotions with the familiar chains of self-loathing and constant reminder that no matter what he did, it would always end with him alone. All he could do was cling to the temporary comfort that your physical contact brought and dream somewhere far off in his head that you were doing this because you wanted to be close to him. And you wanted him to be close to you. 

Both of you stayed that way, never moving an inch in fear of losing the other. It was close, but casual as well, as you would often roll into new positions as you slept, which Trevor would accommodate with open arms. It was some of the best sleep either of you had ever had in a long time, not that either of you would have told the other.

When morning came, you woke up refreshed albeit very flustered. You looked next to you to see Trevor completely asleep, more peaceful than you'd ever seen him. For a man with such a rough and spiky exterior, he was surprisingly comfortable to hold onto. 

You felt yourself quickly regretting the decision because in that moment, your attraction towards him swelled bigger than it had ever been before. Now it was like a monster, impossible to control.

Without much thought, your hand reached towards his face and you ran your thumb over the scars above his thick eyebrow, your touch was as light as a feather as to not wake him. You knew this was a bad idea, but lately you'd found it hard to restrain yourself as much as you did. It made you happy, so you did it.

Trevor's brow twitched and he shook his head a little, making a small noise in his sleep. You quickly pulled your hand away, snapping back to reality. Today you really had to go back to Redwood, and as much as you didn't want to get up and go for various reasons, it was better to get it over with on your own terms as opposed to Trevor dragging you up to the wheel.

You sat up, which quickly stirred Trevor from his slumber. You met eyes with the half-asleep man, he looked confused and irritated to be woken up so abruptly. “... Hi.. I was about to get up and get us back on the road.." You tried to speak to him as if he wasn't still wrapped halfway around your waist.

"It's too fucking early.." He shut his eyes again, brows knitting together.

"You're the one who wants to be in Redwood by the end of the day, in order to do that we need to leave  _ now."  _ You frowned. Trevor merely growled in response. You rolled your eyes and untangled yourself from his grasp. You felt him give a little bit of a fight before he quickly released you, turning away with a big scowl on his face. "I'll give you a little time, but then I wanna see you up front with me, wide awake. Or else who knows, I might steer us off course again." You shrugged sarcastically.

"You're fucking irritating.." He muttered, bringing his hands over his face and rubbing his eyes. 

"Hey, this entire thing was your idea," You sneered, then climbed down the bed ladder onto the cold floor. It did not take long to complete your morning business and get ready to prepare physically for an entire day of driving. You sat up front, Trevor tiredly shuffling and sitting next to you, arms crossed. You revved up the camper and got her going, early morning roads still slick with rain, but it was finally clear outside.

Over the course of the drive and a few stops for food, you found yourself constantly revisiting the previous night, reminiscing how nice it was. Trevor didn't bring it up, which you found odd as you were expecting at least 50 billion new teases because of the night's actions. He simply carried on with his business and said nothing, as if it had never happened. He melded back into his normal self, making sarcastic remarks and small talk now and then. 

Nearing dusk after a long while of boring driving, your phone began to vibrate on the center console. You were somewhat surprised to see Michael’s name on the screen calling you. Inches before your hand could grab the phone, Trevor quickly snatched it away.

“Trevor!” You frowned.

“Eyes on the road, sugar!” He growled, putting the phone up to his face. You huffed and refocused your sights while still listening to the man next to you as he answered the phone. “Michael! What the fuck do you want?” said Trevor. You noted that he sounded more aggressive than usual.

“Trevor?? Where’s (y/n)?” Michael replied over speaker-phone.

“She’s driving, you’ll have to booty call me I’m afraid.” 

“Fuck, really? I thought she woulda left by now..” Michael commented quietly, talking more to himself than Trevor.

“Well she didn’t! We’re goin’ to Redwood!” Trevor sounded extra defensive, making you raise a brow.

“Still? I thought you two would have been there by now.”

“We would have. But (y/n) thought it’d be a better idea to extend the trip a little.. Probably to spend a little more quality time with yours truly.” Trevor’s tone changed again, now slightly boastful. You shot him a weird look, he only winked at you mischievously in response. You sighed and looked back to the road again, brows furrowing.

“You sure? Cause from what I heard last you kidnapped her,” Michael jabbed back, clearly teasing his friend. 

“Fuck you Michael, what are you calling about anyways?” Trevor frowned.

“I was calling to ask (y/n) if she wanted to hang out with me and the kid but I guess that’s not possible.”

“What about me?” Trevor asked quickly.

“The car only seats four people.”

“There’d only be three of you!”

“Chop takes up a seat.”

Trevor growled loudly, “Typical snake behaviour! Well too bad, she’s with me. And for your information, she  _ chose _ to stay with me.” 

“Yeah T, threatening to eat someone will do that,” replied Michael sarcastically.

“I didn’t fuckin’ threaten her!” Trevor yelled back.

“Well it doesn’t have to be direct, God knows I was worried I’d end up in a stew half the time I was staying with you.”

“Ugh, I wouldn’t eat  _ you,  _ Porkchop. You’re probably more unhealthy than all fast food joint menus combined.”

“Well I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“You know what Mikey, you’ve always been so judgmental-”

“Come on T, don’t do this right now-”

“Don’t talk over me when I’m saying something to you!”

“Oh now  _ I’m _ the one who's interruptive?”

From then on, both of their voices became a jumbled mess, the two yelling and making constant remarks over each other, Trevor still gesturing dramatically even though it was a phone call. You were still in shock that Michael actually wanted to hang out with you. It was weird having friends again. And funny too, you thought as you looked over to the big scene. It was simultaneously obnoxious and hilarious how Trevor and Michael got into fights over the littlest things. 

“(y/n) if you’re there somewhere, can you please take the phone away from Trevor!?” Michael yelled out.

“Don’t run away like you always do! Answer the question, does the stick up your ass feel good or not??” Trevor snarkily cut him off.

Okay, enough was enough. “Trevor give me back my phone!” You reached out and grabbed for the phone. Trevor yanked it out of the way causing you to lean over even more, hand whipping around to get the phone. The camper began to swerve across lanes as your focus was divided between fighting Trevor and driving.

"God damn it look where you're going!" Trevor shouted, scooting back into the corner of the chair. You managed to get a grip on the phone and proceeded to play tug-o-war with it.

"What the hell is that noise?" You barely heard Michael say. With all the sudden movement, you accidentally hung up when you finally managed to yank your phone back. 

"Shit, it got disconnected.." You frowned at the black screen, this time putting your phone in your pocket should it ring again. 

"Trust me, it's for the better. You don't need to be hanging around that reptilian." Trevor leaned back and crossed his arms. 

"... Isn't he your best friend?" You slowly asked, somewhat teasing but also serious.

" _ Was _ ... Is. Sometimes. Ugh!" spat Trevor, making you laugh. 

"You know, you two remind me of my old partners.." You admitted.

"What, one was painfully sexy and the other a weaselly fat turd?" Trevor muttered. 

"No not quite," you chuckled, "but Layne and John, they'd fight over the stupidest things."

"Well now hold on a second, princess. Me 'n Mikey don't fight over stupid things, it's for serious reasons!" Trevor said defensively. 

"Oo-kay, so maybe not stupid things but it was really easy for them to start arguing." You began to laugh as you recalled the past. "I remember one night while we were all getting wasted they were going at it so hard, Sierra and I had to pretend that the neighbours called the cops. We took turns going to the front door and talking with imaginary police officers so they would stop yelling at each other." Your voice was littered with giggles as you lamented on the scene. Trevor stared at you endearingly, some of his anger and jealousy dying down as he saw your cheer. "But when they were working together, it was really obvious nothing could split them apart. Those two were the original members, actually. I was the last to join our little crew. They went back pretty far, I guess.." 

Trevor looked out the window in thought. He was suddenly silenced as you indirectly pointed out how well he and Michael worked together. He supposed they did, but damn it he was still pissed off. 

"Yeah well tryin' to get me all gushy about the past isn't gonna make me less angry at him.." Trevor grumbled.

"I'm not trying to do that. I'd be angry too. I was just.. I don't know, I guess going home has me thinking about all this shit." You shook your head. 

"Well why take his side if you know what he did was wrong? No, if anything you two get along together  _ too  _ well." Trevor seethed. 

"I'm not taking sides- Look, this is a problem between you two, I'm not trying to come between it. Michael is still my friend, I'm not gonna turn my back on him just because I happen to work for you," You replied, feeling a familiar frustration arise. For the life of you, you just couldn't understand why Trevor insisted on projecting all of his problems with Michael onto you. 

"... Are ya sure you see him as  _ just _ a friend?" Trevor spoke under his breath, so quiet you nearly missed it. 

"What??" You blurted out in bewilderment. Trevor refused to speak anymore after that. He just stared angrily at his lap.

"... I'm gonna go take a fuckin' hit." He pushed himself off the chair and made his way towards the back.

"Trevor-"

"It's been long enough, I need a goddamn smoke!" Trevor replied snappily. You frowned and shut up, knowing you couldn't do much about it. 

A little while passed by, allowing some of the tension to melt away by the time Trevor sat back up front, looking pleased with life. 

"Whew! Maybe I  _ should _ have taken a plane. This is taking for-ev-errr. How much longer?" He said.

"We're getting there. I'd say we can be there by midnight."

"Good lord, midnight?! That's still hours away. Drive faster."

"I can only drive this thing so fast, Trev.." You sighed.

"Well get out of the seat, I'll drive it then." Trevor nodded his head, gesturing for you to relieve your position.

"What? I thought you wanted me to drive. Didn't you get all up my ass about that last night? Wasn't this supposed to be some big old grand lesson for me?" You squinted.

"Well it was but you're driving too goddamn slow. I would have rather been up your ass in other ways. C'mon. Up." Trevor nodded his head again.

"Trevor, no. You're going to run this thing right off the road."

"No more objections missy, I'm still your boss. Up you go!" 

Without warning, you were suddenly lifted from your seat. You yelped as the camper swerved, Trevor took your place as you tumbled into the passenger's seat.

"You could have at least let me pull over!!" You shouted, gripping the cushion for dear life.

"Ohh come on, I know what I'm doing! You just sit there and be my pretty little navigator." He announced proudly, his foot slamming the gas pedal, making the camper fly down the road. 

"Woah-Trev!" Your stomach lurched as the huge vehicle suddenly turned into a rollercoaster. Things began to shake in the back and slid off shelves as Trevor swerved through the sparse traffic. Well it certainly didn't take long for the old Trevor to come back.

"Okay, tell me where the hell I'm goin'!" He replied. You could only stare for a few moments before fumbling with your phone and opening it to check on the GPS. 

“U-Um, the next exit is in 17 miles.” You said.

“Then what?” 

“After that it’s a few turns here and there then.. We’ll be in Redwood..” You said the last part a little softer.

“Excellent! I’ll get us there before the sun sets!” Trevor spoke boldly. Realistically there was no way he’d get you both there before sunset unless he magically flew the RV over the hills, but the way he spoke almost made you believe it. 

“Well hopefully this thing doesn’t fall apart before we get there..” You muttered, watching the very walls shake as Trevor pushed the vehicle to its limits.

“Oh ye of little faith, c’mon I know what I’m doin’!” Trevor looked over to you and waved his hand in your face.

“Trevor!” You shouted, pointing at the road where the back of a car was quickly approaching.

“Whoops!” Trevor swerved out of the way and you felt like you were about to be thrown out of the window. Once he gained control, he laughed softly in a manic way. You could only cradle your face with your hand.

30 minutes flew by and you got lost in your thoughts. From where you were, it was incredibly easy to identify landmarks now. Without use of a GPS you could certainly find your way home from here and it was unsettling. It almost didn’t feel real, being so close again. 

The whoop of a siren snapped you from your thoughts. Your heart sank and you hoped that you imagined it. You leaned forward and quickly looked at the rearview mirror.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s the Highway Patrol..” Trevor grumbled, glaring at his own rearview.

“Oh  _ fuck!”  _ You leaned back and clenched your hair, immediate anxiety overtaking your body. “God damn it Trevor! We’re never gonna lose them in this thing! I’m fucked!” 

“Quit your whining and get shooting while I lose these creeps!” Somehow, the camper began to drive even faster and you punched your seat before springing into action, sweat already forming on your brow. You reached back and rummaged through Trevor’s duffel bag full of weapons before bringing out a pistol. You kept a steady string of curses going while you rolled down the window and bit your lip before leaning out the side of the camper and firing a few shots at the patrol cars. This sent them for a ride and their sirens and lights quickly filled up the area. You leaned back in, trying to steady your breath as you gripped the gun even tighter. The patrol cars got behind the camper, making it impossible to get a solid sight on them. “Christ your aim sucks!” Trevor commented, focusing on trying to bring the cars out into the open.

“Fuck off! I was always the one driving, not shooting! For fucks sake..” You growled, leaning out the window again and trying your best to shoot the officers while avoiding their return fire. You could feel the buzz of a bullet whizzing dangerously close to your head and you quickly got back inside, heart about to burst through your ribs. “Fuck!” 

“How long til’ the exit?!” Trevor shouted over the deafening sirens.

“Um.. Um.. Fuck! Not that long, it should be coming up in a few minutes. Exit 178.” You could barely talk, too focused on the fact that the officers could burst a tire at any moment, sending the incredibly heavy camper spinning and surely crushing you both. 

“Give me the duffel bag.” Trevor urgently held out his hand, making grabby motions.

“Here!” You threw the bag at him blindly and leaned back out the window, shooting at a patrol car that was getting too close for your tastes. It swerved and crashed into a sign on the edge of the road, flying up and flipping in a spectacular show of sparks and fire. “Yes! Fuck you!” You yelled, retreating back to your position and clumsily reloading the gun with a new magazine. 

Trevor spied the exit coming up fast. With one hand he reached into the bag and pulled out a grenade, plucking the pin out with his teeth. “You were wondering if these were really necessary, told you I always like to be prepared!” Trevor smiled wickedly before throwing the grenade out the window and swerving towards the exit, which was nearly on the other side of the road. “Hold on!”

“Dear God!” You clenched your seat, swearing the RV was about to topple at any moment from the sudden change in direction. Before you even saw the bright orange explosion you felt its shockwave travel through your body. Patrol cars flew in the air in flames, landing on their roofs and making vibrant shows of fire that lit up the dusk sky. Trevor had gotten the last of them with the grenade but there was no way backup wasn’t on its way. 

“Shit shit shit!” Trevor spat out, struggling to regain control of the camper. It flew off the road into a sizable ditch separating the forest from the asphalt. It landed on its nose, sending the two of you flying forward. The impact was surprisingly soft thanks to the muddy ground, so thankfully you and Trevor only hit the dash as opposed to flying out the window, but now the camper was seemingly wrecked.

“Fuck me! Are you okay?” You gradually got back up as soon as you realized you were still alive, looking over to Trevor with worry.

“Just fine sweetheart!” He scooted back, wiping fresh blood from his nose and smearing it across his cheek and wrist.   
“Fuck, Trev! You should have just let me drive!” You yanked the duffel bag up and sealed it, slinging it around your shoulder and making your way towards the exit.

“Woah, where ya goin’?” Trevor called out.

“Well we have to go! They’ll be on us in no time!” You replied quickly, cramming all of your words together in a panic.

“Calm down sugar tits! They won’t be finding us here anytime soon. Camper’s completely covered by the trees and the hill. Wouldn’t even see us with a chopper.” He gestured out the cracked windshield, causing you to march back up front and hastily look outside. Sure enough, you’d found yourself in quite a good bit of cover. 

“Well great, we can maybe wait out the search but now our only good vehicle is wrecked.” You pointed to the steam coming out from the front of the camper.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions so fast. We haven’t even looked at it yet.” Trevor pushed himself off the seat with a grunt and walked to the door, kicking it open. You hesitantly followed, hyper-aware of your surroundings and analyzing every little sound while Trevor walked straight ahead, seemingly not a care in the world.

He reached the front and put his hands on the grill, quickly pulling them back with a hiss and shaking them. “Fuck that’s hot,” He grumbled, quickly looking around for anything that could pry it open. He wandered toward the treeline and picked up a hefty branch and came back all the while you impatiently scanned the top of the hill for any sign of patrols.

Trevor jammed the branch between a section of warped metal and pulled with all of his strength. He caught your eyes for a moment and you became entranced on his flexing muscles while he struggled to pop the front section off. The branch snapped loudly, sending him flying backwards and landing on his ass in the mud with a loud squelch. The front simultaneously popped open, releasing a huge cloud of steam into the air. You couldn’t help but laugh and he sent you a death stare. “Don’t fuckin’ laugh at me, I meant to do that.” He slowly stood up, brushing himself off and shaking the mud off his hands. Both you and Trevor leaned in to get a better look at the engine inside.

“Well… Uh… It looks like.. Um..” Trevor squinted.

“Count yourself lucky, it’s just a bit overheated. The mud broke our crash.” You leaned back and let out a sigh of relief. “We should let it sit for a while before trying to get it out.”

“Right. Of course. I was just about to say that, obviously.” Trevor crossed his arms. You took a long and deep breath and reentered the camper, Trevor following for a lack of anything else to do.

“I still can't believe you got us into this situation. We were so close too! I mean, not that I care. We could stay stuck in this ditch if it weren't for the fact that the police could be on our asses any second.." You sat at the dinette, bouncing your leg stressfully and staring at the wall. 

"Sheesh, you and the police. You let them crawl wayyy too far up your ass, sweetheart. I told you, as long as I'm around you don't have to worry." Trevor spoke as he sat down in the seat across from you.

"Well you're here and the direct cause of my worries! I mean, if you just let me keep driving.." You bit the inside of your cheeks, trying not to get into another pointless argument.

"Well you were driving too goddamn slow! I needed to get out, stretch my legs. And we're.." Trevor took out his cracked phone and quickly navigated it, raising his brows as he saw the GPS, "Christ, we're practically there. If the pigs didn't interrupt, we really could have been there before sunset!" Trevor huffed, looking upset that he'd lost the race against time. 

"Aargh! That's not the point! Right now we have to focus on not getting caught and getting this thing out of here, if it's not completely stuck in the mud. Highway patrol probably already got the plate number anyways so we should probably just ditch it here, to be honest."

"Jesus, do you take me as some sort of buffoon, sugar? I ditched the plates." Trevor crossed his arms.

"What? I thought you were avoiding highways because you didn't want to be ID'd!" You called him out.

"Yup, and look what happened, you decided to get on one while I gave you control and the cops were all over us!"

"Because you were driving like a maniac! Ugh- Fuck it, whatever. That means we could still theoretically drive this into Redwood without getting immediately spotted, but we'd have to make our stay  _ short."  _ You reasoned. Trevor only shrugged. You could hear sirens passing by in the distance, but none were too close to raise any worry. You just hoped they'd stay that way. "By the time they're done searching we can try and lug this thing out.. Somehow.." You sighed, resting your head on the table.

"Could be.. Hours from now," Trevor's voice suddenly got low and flirtatious, "whatever could we do to keep ourselves occupied?" He smirked. You raised your head and gave him an irritated look although a blush as clear as day was forming on your face.

"You're right. One of us needs to keep watch outside." You took the pistol and shoved it in your pants, tossing the duffel bag at Trevor.

"Ooh, that's cold." He retorted, watching you walk out the door. 

The cool evening air threaded through your hair and you took a moment to compose yourself. Things weren’t as bad as they could be, but they certainly could be better. You heard a chopper circling in the distance and your heart sped a little. “We’ve got cover.. It’s okay..” You spoke to yourself to keep calm. You trudged up the hill and crouched down keeping a low profile while scanning the road. Cars came and went and you could spot red and blue lights in the far distance. 

Maybe 15 minutes went by before Trevor couldn’t take it and he went outside to join you, much to your dismay. In his current amped-up state, you were more than a little worried he would draw attention to the area, but luckily it appeared he was acting calm for the time being. 

\--

“Fuck’s sake, how long has it been?” Trevor spoke tiredly while leaning against the RV.

“Two hours, give or take,” You grumbled back, still keeping an eye on the road up above. Police activity was dying down, but there was still some risk if you were to immediately get up and leave right then.

Suddenly, a rather flashy muscle car pulled over under a streetlight near the highway entrance. You squinted as the driver got out, oblivious to your presence. Instead, it looked like he was observing the activity on the highway.

“No way..” You said aloud, slowly coming to a stand. Trevor noticed and quickly stood to attention.

“What? What is it?” He raised his gun. Instead of answering, you slowly began walking towards the car, still unsure if what you were seeing was correct. “Um hello?” Trevor growled. When you’d walked a distance away, he huffed and sloppily climbed up the hill to see what the hell had grabbed your attention.

You slowly sauntered towards the expensive car, holding yourself in a sheepish manner. You stopped at the car’s trunk, heart feeling like it was about to explode out of your chest. The guy finally noticed you standing there once under the light and he turned to you.

“Do you need something-” His eyes widened. “... (y/n)??” He gasped. 

“Hey Paulie..” You replied, unable to hide your coy smile.

“What?!” He exclaimed through surprised laughter, “What are you doing here?” He quickly walked over and scooped you up in a quick hug. You briefly returned it and answered when he pulled away to get a better look at your face.

“I.. Well, I’m not entirely sure myself..” 

“Whose this?” Trevor walked up behind you, looking rather threatening. Paulie aggressively got in front of you when he saw Trevor’s gun. 

“This is an old racing friend, T.” You quickly snaked between them. “Paulie, this is my boss Trevor. He brought me back here.” 

Paulie seemed to soften at your answer. “Well, that’s great news. I mean.. Everyone thought you were dead. What happened?” He refocused his eyes on you.

“I should have died in all honesty.. But things happened and I moved down to Southern SanAn, few hours away from Los Santos.”

“Well well, big city girl! So you decided to come back? Was the racing scene not good enough over there?” He laughed. 

“Ah.. Well.. This is all temporary.. I mostly just came back to see my folks.” You looked down, almost sad to disappoint him. 

“Oh.. Them.. So you’re not gonna light up the streets down here just one more time?” He nudged you with a teasing tone. 

“Afraid not. We uh.. I got some heat on my back at the moment and we’re trying to lie low. As a matter of fact, I spotted you from just down the street where we’re bunkered.”

“.. What? So all that commotion on the highway was you? Haha! Sounds about right! I came down here to scout how bad things were. We were supposed to have a race tonight.”

“Yeah, guess I just couldn’t shake my old ways, huh?” You spoke with a self-loathing tone.

“Hey, I’m glad to see it. Ever since you disappeared, things just weren’t the same around the community. The races got a little too easy, to be honest,” He chuckled, which brought a smile to your face. You stood there awkwardly until an idea popped into your head.

“Say, Paulie, would you be willing to help us out? The RV we drove here got stuck in that ditch down there, think you could find a way to us get out?” 

“Well shit, I don’t think my car is strong enough to pull it out.. But.. Now that I think of it.. My brother owns a pretty powerful truck he uses to lug his trailers around. I’ll go give him a whistle and meet you back here in a few.” 

“Yes! Thank you!” You jumped up and gave him a big hug while Trevor watched rather enviously. Paulie said his goodbyes as he got back into his car and sped down the road, engine roaring loudly through the night sky.

“Fuck yes! We might be able to finally get out of this! What luck, I can’t believe he pulled up down the street out of all people..” You recalled to yourself as you began to walk back to the RV with Trevor.

“Yeah, kind of a short guy though. Too short for my tastes. I guess the fancy car compensates, huh?” Trevor jabbed back.

“Hey, don’t be mean. He was a close friend,” You said.

“Close is a word for it. You two were awfully touchy-feely, was he an old fuck-buddy or something?” Trevor rolled his eyes.

You were silent for a moment as you carefully descended the hill back to the RV. “.. I guess you could say that. We did date for a few months back in school..” Your voice was a little too fond for Trevor’s taste, he could only frown in response. 

“I’m surprised he even recognized me, though. We didn’t talk much after we split, I was always either with my crew or driving around. We only really ever saw each other while speeding down the road..” You continued, walking over to the front of the RV. The engine was looking much better and ready to get back on the road.

30 minutes flew by and Paulie was back with his brother and a rather beefy truck. Trevor helped secure a tow line to the RV and the two of you got back inside the camper and started the engine.

Paulie stood from a distance carefully watching the situation. “Give her some gas!” He yelled out. Both vehicles struggled on the incline. You sat behind the wheel, pushing down the pedal while the engine groaned to make it up the hill, mud flying in every direction behind the wheels.

“Come on you piece of shit!” You yelled out, brows drawing together. 

“Almost there!” Paulie called out, watching as the nose of the camper peeked over the hill. 

The truck slipped a few times, smoke puffing out from behind the tires. It was a painful process, but the RV finally clawed its way onto even ground, briefly swaying in relief from the harsh climb. 

“Fuck yeah!” You pumped your fists, climbing out to thank Paulie and his brother. Trevor watched from afar, scowl on his face. 

“Thanks again. I’m so lucky to have ran into you.” You quickly hugged him one more time and he patted your back.

“It’s no problem. I’m just glad you’re not dead.. I still have no idea what the deal is with that, but I’m not gonna question a miracle. Now get going, you don’t wanna stay here too long.” He gently pushed you away.

“Right. Thanks.” You nodded and jogged back to the RV where Trevor was waiting. He looked oddly displeased. “Alright, let’s blow this scene.” You took the wheel and the RV slowly carried on down the road. In the rear-view, you saw Paulie and his brother take off in the opposite direction. The interaction left a smile on your face, Trevor not so much.

You were in the city of Redwood at last. Though it was nerve-wracking, you couldn’t help but feel calmed after seeing an old friend and finally escaping the police. Just one quick visit tomorrow later in the day and you’d be free. 

The RV pulled into a secluded area you’d remembered from a long time ago, far away from the highway, and you were finally allowed to relax. You cut the engine and leaned back, a whole flood of emotions coming over you at once.

“I can’t believe I’m actually back..” You sighed, staring out into the dark surroundings. Trevor stayed silent. “.. Well… I guess tomorrow I’ll finally go see them..” You continued slowly. Anxiety started crawling into your head and you grew quiet. It felt different to say it aloud and acknowledge it. Trevor just sat there. You looked over to him, but he appeared to be distracted, staring out the window. “.. Well, I guess I’ll try and sleep before then since it’s almost midnight.. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’m gonna be able to..” You mumbled, standing from your seat and wandering towards the back. You heard Trevor get up and follow, presumably to hit the hay as well.

Just as you were about to enter the door, Trevor grabbed your attention. “Hey.”

You turned to face him. “Yeah?”

He kept stepping closer, an unfamiliar glint in his eye. “You’re.. Still gonna talk to me when this is all over?” He asked. It wasn’t in a sad tone like you’d expect, but more of a husky, domineering one.

“Um.. Yeah..? Didn’t we go over this?..” You spoke unsurely, beginning to back away as he continued to step closer. Eventually, he backed you against the small counter, looming over you.

“You know I’m still your boss, right?” His hands cornered you, grabbing the edges of the counter behind you. Your heart began to race as you felt the heat coming from his body. 

“Y-Yeah, Trev.. What the hell is all this about?” Heat flowed up to your face. You were simultaneously nervous and turned on by the position he had you in.

“I just wanted to make sure you remembered.” He purred, getting ever so closer. At this point, you were actively arching your back away from him as he began to press against you. 

“Okay, enough. Back off.” You put your palm flat against his chest and pushed him away, quickly walking into the bedroom in a highly flustered manner. He made no effort to stop you, he only watched you walk in with a smirk before he slowly followed. “I don’t know what the fuck’s gotten into you, but I have enough shit to worry about right now. What I’m about to do tomorrow is going to be far from fucking easy and I don’t need you… Acting all weird..” You muttered, kicking your shoes off in a haste and climbing up into your bunk, facing the wall. You clutched your blanket to your chest where you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. 

“We were just talkin’, princess..” He replied cockily from down below. His voice made your face even more red and you sighed, clenching your eyes shut. 

“Alright whatever. Goodnight.” You ended the conversation, but you knew it was going to be basically impossible to sleep after that little stunt. What the hell was he trying to pull? You shook your head, trying not to dwell on it. You had way more things to worry about.

You were finally back home and the time to go see your folks again was dangerously close. You had no idea how they’d react. And you weren’t excited to find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! And with the new year signifies another progression in the plot. No more being confined to that little RV, yayy!! Thanks for reading as always, much more to come! And yes, I snuck some slight Trikey into this ;P hahaha


End file.
